Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain
by Lithia Sunset
Summary: When Loki decides to make another play against Thor with a trick deadlier than he thought it to be, Jane has to suffer the consequences. Can something good come from this, or will being used as a pawn change her? And can Darcy Lewis keep Thor from cracking when all hope seems lost?
1. Splintered

_**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**_

_By Lithia Susnet/LithiaDeLaSunset_

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><p><strong>AN: **I posted this on A03 a few days prior and hope that the audience here will enjoy this story just as thorougly. Its conception lies in a gift, and partial prompt, from OC'specialty (MyFathersFavorite) fertilized by my mind and in turn developing into a wonderful thought child that I now love dearly. Updates will usually entail more than one chapter at once but will not be every day or every other day in occurance. Most of the chapters are long chapters. So you know what you're getting into sans spoilers, Darcy is there to comfort Thor after his brother is a lil shit again. I will write about both couples and from each of the four's limited point of view...and elaborate on their history as well as to go ahead and say that this story will span the realms in the least. So enjoy. Also, alert for brief light intimacy in the beginning portion sans romance...but hey, no more spoiler than that. If you guys want more details, I can post those, too.

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><p><strong>Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain<strong>

Chapter 1: Splintered

_"Everything you touch it surely dies."_

- Passenger

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><p>Jane should have known it was a bad idea. Why in the hell had she thought going to Asgard for a vacation from S.H.I.E.L.D would bring good things? Right, because it was <em>supposed<em> to. She sighed, closing _another_ book and setting it on a growing stack by the foot of the bed. She sat back on her hands and began idly playing with a loose thread on the rich comforter, wondering when Thor would return.

At that moment, there was movement by the door, and the handle turned. Jane instantly sat up, but it was only a maidservant bringing a food tray. She thanked her and nibbled at it before stretching out and burying her head into one of Thor's pillows, inhaling, and fell asleep.

Some time later, she drowsily came to; someone was caressing the upturned side of her face tenderly.

"Thor," she mumbled, smiling.

"Lady Jane." Her smile started to deepen upon hearing the rumbling familiar voice, but halted half-way when something caught her attention: something was off. She dismissed it. He was tired. Or maybe it wasn't his voice. Something odd about his presence? His scent? She mentally shrugged it off and opened her eyes.

Thor looked just about how he always did, if a bit more put in place. He never paid that much attention to every hair before. His eyes seemed to glitter at her, but a moment later, she had convinced herself it was a trick of the light.

She sat up slowly, blinking sleep away. His hand drew away and he stared at her.

"How were the others?"

"They were well," he replied. It almost sounded silky. Jane tilted her head to the side. Thor did the same. "Is something troubling you?" He asked concernedly . Jane bit her lip and shook her head.

"Nothing...I've just missed you."

Some emotion flashed across his features but quickly passed. He lunged forward and stole a kiss from her, easing her down and settling near her. Jane laughed. "Anxious?"

"You could say that," he whispered, trailing a finger down her arm. He leaned down to kiss her again, and this time, he traced the curve of her right breast through her dress. Jane shivered a bit.

"Have you spoken to your father yet?" she inquired rather breathlessly as his fingertips, which she had not noticed until that moment, traced a pattern on the inside of her thigh. Rather than answer, his lips started dropping slow kisses down her throat. His tongue darted out and licked at her pulse point.

"Thor-"

"I saw him," he murmured somewhat hurriedly, and he withdrew his hands to start working on the fastenings of her clothes.

Jane started to say something else when she got kissed on the mouth once more, and then lifted up, her dress slid off and away. She shivered again. Thor drew back and stared at her. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he had never seen her before.

Jane reached up to touch his cheek. He flinched, then leaned into her hand.

"Am I that forgettable?" she joked.

"Not at all."

Once again, he reached out to touch her, delicately, as if just learning her curves. Jane watched his hands. He was careful, not as...enthusiastic...as he usually was. He took his time, giving her measured kisses and measured touches, moving as if exploring.

He lowered his lips to her collarbone, nuzzled her shoulder, drew his palm up her abdomen. He withdrew again and started removing all of his gear and clothing. Stripped, he crawled back beside of her.

Jane felt unreasonably uneasy. Something in those movements stirred suspicion, but before she could ponder it long, he suddenly flew into a frenzy, hands and mouth everywhere, kissing her, groping, inhaling. His movements slowed again and he gently took a nipple between his teeth, sucking on it. Jane's breath came a little harder, hitched when his hand meandered between her knees and upward. She gasped when he touched her outer lips, and unconsciously widened the distance between her legs. He slid up her body, sitting up almost straight and pulling her into his lap. His fingertips traced her shoulder blades and the arch of her spine, too, the shape of her jutting vertebra, the curve of her bottom, the backs of her thighs. He laid her down again, and without any more preamble, pushed into her. Jane wrapped her limbs around him, her heels digging into his lower back and her arms locked around his neck, and relaxed.

His rhythm was off. She hated to think that, but it was. Not that it was a bad thing...but it was different. Maybe he was trying something new? But that wasn't like Thor...Thor knew her. But maybe she was overthinking things again?

He leaned down and buried his face in her hair by the side of her neck. He whispered something, and Jane strained to hear it, trying to understand while she was still lucid. As if to take her mind off of it, his hands started doing something very inappropriate, something that made Jane swear and blush, and kept her from noticing the door opening.

"Jane, I have returned." Thor. What the hell? Jane craned her neck, saw Thor in the doorway.

She started to say something, anything, but instead, a half-strangled cry clawed its way up and out of her throat and her body betrayed her, climbing higher, flushing, pulsing with sensation.

Thor, though stunned, gave an outraged battle cry and ran to the bed, stretching out his hands to stop the imposter...and hit a forcefield that threw him backward against the wall with a crash and a thud. Jane writhed in confusion, completely helpless as she felt an orgasm hit her. When it was over, Fake Thor, as she had realized by then, continued to hold her. She tried hitting him, but he held her still, shushing her, stroking her hair, until, despite herself, she had calmed.

"Now," he whispered, bending his lips by her ear. Footsteps could be heard outside in the corridor, no doubt in response to the commotion.

"I'll return for you, in less than three days time."

Then he had vanished. Jane pulled the sheets to her just as guards rushed into the room.

The forcefield seemed to have vanished with its creator. Thor lumbered to his feet and made his way over to Jane. He fell to his knees by the bedside. "Jane, did he hurt you?"

"I thought he was _you_," she choked before she began sobbing brokenly, her entire body shaking.

..xx..

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><p>Thor strode furiously into the Throne Room to find it empty.<p>

"You are searching for me?" his father's voice boomed out. Thor turned to see Odin in the doorway behind him.

"Father," he began, taking a step forward, "an intruder came. He...he took my form and...Jane..." he trailed off uncertainly. His father put a hand on his shoulder. "Did he harm her?"

"He-" Thor swallowed. "He violated her. She has not been well since, which is why I did not come until your return today...I fear she will never be the same."

Emotion contorted Odin's face, and then it smoothed out, though a hint of something remained. He coughed.

"And have you any idea who it could have been?"

"No," Thor replied honestly. He seemed truly heartbroken. "I cannot help her, father. There is nothing..."

Odin came forward and clasped him in a brief, uncharacteristic hug. "My poor Thor...without Frigga, who remains to put you back together this time?"

Thor pulled back and stared into his face. "Father?"

The man released him and stepped back. A smirk suddenly twisted his face, a familiar expression. "Not quite."

Thor squinted and then straightened completely, his narrowed eyes widening. "You cannot be."

"Be what?" The other man asked, spreading his hands wide in another familiar gesture. He now eyed Thor insolently.

"Brother?" Thor whispered disbelievingly. His incredulity morphed into anger. He took a threatening step forward. "Where is father?" He paled as another thought came over him. "Did you...did you take my form and...did you touch Jane?" His voice trembled with rage.

Mad laughter rang out and suddenly no likeness of Odin stood before him, but his brother, Loki.

"I did more than _touch_ her, and we both know it."

Thor lunged at him, ready to throttle him, Mjölnir in hand, but he disappeared like smoke just as Thor brought the hammer down.

Enraged, and worried for Jane, Thor rushed back to where she had been moved, a room to share with Darcy. He burst in, completely shocking the two women: Darcy dropped the dress she had been about to try on and Jane sat trembling, eyes wide and hand on her heart, having flinched.

"Jane, Darcy, are you well? Has anyone else come here?"

"No, big guy, what happened?" Darcy replied. She had been brought up the day after Jane's misfortune. Jane stared down at the pillow she was clutching so hard her knuckles were white. "I-I didn't tell her," she managed to get out hoarsely.

"Tell me what?" Darcy was as inquisitive and bubbly as ever. "I'm surprised you brought me up here or wanted me to stay with you. I thought for sure you'd want-"

"A man came in as Thor and..."

Darcy froze mid-bend and shot up. "Oh my gosh. Did he-"

"No, I...I didn't know until it was too late," she quavered.

There came a crash out in the hallway. Thor turned to investigate. A cloaked figure appeared behind him and sent him crashing outside with a burst of green energy that also slammed the door behind him. The figure turned and threw its hood back.

"Shit," Darcy swore, "Holy hell and fuck me sideways."

Jane stared rather emotionlessly at him. "You. I slapped you."

"Yes," Loki said simply.

"Did you do this to me?" Jane asked. It was a forced, fake calm.

"Damn," Darcy muttered, clutching the dress to her ample chest.

The other two ignored her.

"Did you do this to me?!" Jane all but shrieked. His jaw clenched as he regarded her, taking in her sad and disheveled appearance.

"All I did was-"

She lunged at him in a violent whirl of fury and threw herself on him, hitting and slapping him until he caught her wrists.

"Stop that this instant," he snapped. "I did not harm you."

"Yes you did," she all but sobbed, "yes you did."

She slumped and began sobbing against his chest, seeming to forget her surroundings. His grip on her wrists slackened and genuine regret flashed in his eyes.

"I merely wanted-"

"You wanted to screw over Thor and have something to throw in his face," Darcy interrupted. "Sleeping with Jane was the biggest _"fuck you!"_ you could think of is all."

She received a glare to curdle blood.

Jane stopped suddenly, going completely silent and not making a sound. Darcy watched, utterly flabbergasted, as, just as Thor managed to break the door down, Loki picked Jane up carefully, as if he cared, and disappeared with her.

By the time Thor broke through completely, Mjölnir aloft, the colors had dissipated, leaving him staring around the room and landing his gaze on Darcy.

"Where-where is Jane?"

"He took her," Darcy responded, actually sounding dazed, "Loki took Jane."

"He took her? He took her!" He threw Mjölnir despite it being an utterly useless and senseless action and gave a terrible bellow.

"This can't be good for anyone," Darcy muttered.

Meanwhile, Jane had come to her senses and was fighting once more, much to the chagrin of her carrier.

"Be still, won't you?" he snapped.

"_No_," she hissed, scratching at him again.

He shifted her to one arm and held her hands away with the other before she clawed his eyes out.

"Must you struggle so?" Loki snapped impatiently.

"You're kidnapping me, you ass. Of course I...of course I have to." She hiccuped again and tried to headbutt him. Currently, he carried her briskly down a deserted path. The sky overhead was odd to Jane, foreign.

After a while, she managed to calm down and she felt Loki become less tense. Sniffing, she tentatively croaked, "Where are we?" Gods, her voice was a mess. "Where have you taken me?"

She felt a bit reassured for a moment, just an inkling. He had saved her life, once. Perhaps he wouldn't harm her (much)? Either way, he made no comment.

"What do you plan to do with me?" Jane whispered. He stopped walking then, and she tipped her head back to see his expression. He stared ahead but glanced down sidelong at her. He smiled bitterly.

"I won't touch you again, I give you my word. I have more to think about now than precious Thor."

"Well, that's reassuring," Jane retorted bitingly, "your word is the new currency; reliable and dependable."

His jaw clenched. "Have I not told you I mean you no harm?"

Jane stared at him, then proclaimed brutally, lowly, "I hate you. And you deserve whatever he decides to do to you."

He said nothing, merely continued walking, and Jane saw that he had brought them upon a busy city, though it was still a distance off from them.

"Can you walk?" he asked once they neared half the distance to the gates.

"You think I won't run?" Jane remarked sharply. She could feel him frowning at the top of her head.

"I have no doubt you will. But where will you go? Without Thor or Midgard, you are lost and alone. Destitute."

Her fingers knotted where they held onto him. "Bastard."

"Calling me names will not help," he murmured.

"Doesn't hurt, either," she grumbled."Put me down." Her voice wavered, but her tone was firm.

"And I trust your senses have returned and you will not attempt escape?"

"No. I'll stay. You made sure of that." Loki tried to ignore the bitter, sour tinge to her tone and instead focused on setting her down carefully.

She wobbled. Her legs had fallen asleep, and she nearly fell over. He reached out to steady her, but she flinched away. "Don't touch me," she barked harshly.

"Fine," he nearly snarled, but stayed close by until he was sure she could stand on her own.

He slowed his pace to accommodate her stride, and they began walking once more.

"Where have we come to?" she tried again, quieter. He shot her a glance, and something in his gaze softened.

"Alfheim. I have allies and acquaintances here."

A silence fell, heavy and tense.

"You used me." She now sounded drained of emotion, and Loki wondered when she had become quite so mercurial.

"I did not use you. You consented."

"Because I thought you were someone else! You used me like...like some _cheap whore_ to prove a fucking point. My emotions are jackshit crazy now. My hair is coming out more. I lost a pound."

He snorted at the last bit. "It's not been a handful of days. The pound is not my fault."

"It is if I couldn't and haven't eaten since you...since you..."

"I apologized," he tried to defend himself curtly. "Surely-"

"You think everything is back to normal or that we're some kind of friends because you said you were sorry?" Jane flared, "You're childish and selfish on top of being full of it."

Loki stopped walking, and without another choice, Jane stopped and rounded on him. She nearly deflated and lost some of her anger. He didn't look truly angry or riled at all. He seemed...defeated, agitated, on the defense.

"You do not have to beat me over the head with this," he growled, jaw working.

"Well, I was hoping it might sink in," Jane simpered haughtily with a hint of mockery.

He grabbed her by the arms and she cringed as if his fingers burned her.

"I have no intention of hurting you. Perhaps I slighted you. Perhaps I did _hurt_ you. But I apologize to no one and yet I have apologized to _you_. Could you not bitch about it every second we are within hearing range of one another?"

Jane glared at him. "But do you mean it? Or do you just want me to stop, as you put it, _bitching_, about something _you_ did to _me_ for no reason other than you throwing another royal fit?"

"Could you, unlike everyone else, try to understand? You of all people owe me that. I saved you."

"And then you wronged me!"

He had remained calmer than she.

Her eyes darted over his features. "You built up trust with saving my life and acting like you cared. But then you _destroyed_ that the second you violated it. You didn't just lie, or deceive. You did _both_ and you did it to me to hurt someone else, oh savior. You can't paste a bandaid over this. It doesn't work that way. Maybe _you_ should work on understanding _me_."

She jerked out of his grip and took a step away. "If you touch me again, I don't care, pauper or no, I will leave and not come back." She spun and continued the way they had been going. He swore and followed her.

They didn't mention it anymore as they trudged toward their goal, which loomed ever taller as they neared it. He held his arm out in front of her to keep her from going ahead once the gates were just before them. "There is a toll to pay," he explained softly to her under his breath.

He didn't meet her eyes or even glance her way as he pulled out a few gold coins and hailed the gatekeeper in a strange language. Jane hung back for lack of anything else to do and waited patiently for them to be let through. She wordlessly ducked underneath his arm and slunk through the high stone arch as soon as the doors creaked open.

The city bustled with life and burst with colors of all sorts. Jane held her head high and walked with more confidence. She paused on a street corner and waited for Loki to catch up.

"Where to?" She tried putting as little emotion as possible into the question. She had accepted her new lot and decided to deal with him at a distance.

He started to guide her by the shoulder, but she shrugged away from his reach. "Just tell me or show me."

Biting his tongue, he strode toward what appeared to be an inn and motioned for her to follow him, glancing over his shoulder to make sure she had and seeing her to be right in step with him.

He went in first, approaching the counter. Jane eyed the interior, which, of course, was sophisticated and fine. Where else would the pompous, arrogant ass stay? She kept her scalding, chiding thoughts to herself and followed him up the stairs to the suite, relieved to find that two adjoining rooms comprised a part of it: she wouldn't have to share a bed in any sense. She immediately went to the washroom and drew water to wet her face, and then she sat and let frustrated, angry, confused tears flow freely. _What was she to do?_

When she emerged, the room was empty, but a note lay on the nightstand. It read in slanting, elegant script:

_**'Food will be brought to you. Clean clothes and linens are in the wardrobe. Do not go anywhere without me.'**_

It was unsigned, but she had no doubt who had written it. She crumpled it up in her fist and threw it rather viciously into the waste paper basket.

She opened the wardrobe and found all manner of fine clothing, among other things, within.

"Insensitive prick," she muttered, "I can't be bought." But what was she to do about it, exactly, go naked on principle? She snatched out the first article, a dress, not caring one whit what it really looked like, and rooted around for undergarments and whatever else she might need before storming back to the washroom.

Once there, she bolted the door and stared at herself in the large, oval mirror hanging on the wall. "You look like hell," she muttered half-jokingly to her reflection as if addressing someone else. She smiled wryly. Darcy would be the one to say that, the woman being the ever candid one and complete source of honesty. Staring hard and imagining her friend there, she said in reply, "I feel like it, too. But I'm done feeling sorry for myself. I'm a big girl now." Her lips curled upward in a self-deprecating sort of way. "I might be losing it, though."

She stripped down while she waited for the water to fill the tub, shivering, goose pimples spreading. Before it ran full, she added a few samples of bath oils, and then shut it off and slipped in, sighing. Her hair instantly began curling around her breasts, and she frowned down at it, moving it all over one shoulder. She spread water over her arms and lowered her head, tucking it toward her knees as if for a dive to get at her hair, neck, and shoulders. She wasted no time lathering up after groping for a bar of sweet-smelling floral soap and her washcloth.

Jane scrubbed herself, running through her emotions and thoughts coupled with recent events and everything she had said and done. She rinsed, repeated, got out and dried off, realized she only regretted not trusting her instincts when they had questioned the Thor that had first come through the door. There happened to be lotions and perfumes in the little cabinet, and she wondered if it were customary, or if a certain someone had ordered those for her, too, and had them brought there. She toweled then combed her hair a bit, putting on the clothes and things she had gathered mechanically.

With nothing left, unless she brushed her teeth again, she unbolted the door and reentered the bedroom. A stack of books had appeared on a table along with a tray of still-warm food. Jane stared at it coldly, tempted not to eat it but persuaded to when she nearly fainted, realizing she couldn't starve herself for something he did; that it wouldn't starve away the burns and scars his touches and kisses had left. Aside from that, he, apparently, was the last person by the Nine that would try and poison her at that moment, and no one else, she was sure, knew who she was or thought her important enough to do so.

Unable to resist, she snatched up the tray and filched a book from the stack, taking them both to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Feeling ravenous, her appetite catching up to her, she ate every bit of her meal, which she found delicious. She wondered if it would taste as good if she weren't famished. Pushing the newly cleared tray and dishes aside, she continued reading, not noticing she had tired until she slumped back into the pillows she had assembled to support herself, after which she have in to slumber.

Some time later, the adjoining door opened haltingly, and an internally contrite Loki peeked in to check on Jane. His eyes roved around the room until he saw her asleep, a book open in her lap and the tray he had requested cleaned of anything edible.

It had been wonderful, playing Thor like that, hurting him, thumbing his nose, per se. Unfortunately, he had not imagined the affects it would all have on Jane. Of course, he had also not planned for Thor to return early. He had planned to have vanished, to let her think it a dream and crow to his brother privately or reveal it as a trump card at an opportune moment. He hadn't known she would take it so hard or spurn him for it. He truly did find her interesting, even liked her. He might have even been able to grow to adore her. But he had done something that damaged any of his chances. He might as well have raped her for all the consent he asked for, and at least then he wouldn't have been lying about who he was, his intentions, or his...feelings. He didn't deserve to see her soft body naked again, to have it arch into his touch. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, and he would take whatever she threw at him.

He shook the troublesome thoughts away, crept to the bed, and got the tray from her, marking her place and setting her book on the night table. Then he tucked her in, gently brushing back a strand of stray hair, careful not to wake her and leaving her completely unaware of his gentle actions. Reluctantly, he retreated, closing the door softly behind him.


	2. A Good and Decent Person

**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**

Chapter 2: A Good and Decent Person

**In which Mr. Kneel Bitches is a shameless flirt and Jane is having none of his shit. Also, trouble. I also apologize if my line breaks screwed up during transfer and add that I couldn't see exactly what the damage might be.**

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><p>Chapter 2: A Good and Decent Person<p>

_"You were told to run away, soak the place, and light the flame."_

- Bullet for My Valentine

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><p>When Jane woke up, she noticed that it was dark through the slanted windows. She also noted, belatedly, that she had been tucked it with care, the food tray taken, and her book placed neatly to the side. Scowling, she kicked the covers away and stood. The note from earlier had been replaced by another.<p>

_**'Dinner will be around sundown and can be private or public; whichever you wish.'**_

She had to hand it to him, he was doing his damnedest to make her comfortable. Then again, why shouldn't he? She sighed, hunted for a wrap, and knocked on the adjoining door.

He appeared not long afterward, and she backed up in case he needed to step into the room. She lifted her chin and met his gaze even though he tried avoiding hers. "Well?" she pressed quietly. She was tired more than anything, and somber. The nap kept her from feeling sleepy, but not drained.

He regarded her guardedly. "Did you read the note or not?"

"I don't care. Feed me, don't feed me. Eat with me or leave me alone. You don't care anyway."

He took a measured step closer, and his eyes flashed, leading her to believe she had angered him. But his voice, when he spoke, was surprisingly neutral. "If I did not care, you would be out on the street. Is that what you want?" He said the last part rather coldly, with a delicate stress. He grabbed her by the arm and held on despite her protests, leading her to the window, where he drew the curtain aside and said, "Look."

Trying to ignore his hand on her arm and failing, Jane glanced down into the street where he pointed. A beggar was just visible, tattered, frayed, and unkempt in every form of the word from head to toe.

Jane said nothing although she felt a bit like gnashing her teeth.

"Thank you for your hospitality, then. How _honorable_ of you."

She knew Loki heard the sardonic edge and lack of graciousness, but he said nothing and dropped his arm. She turned to him. "Where will we be having dinner?"

He sighed. "In all truth, I have business to attend to that I was not made aware of until just recently." He sounded cross, but not with her.

"Do you mind if they see me?" Jane inquired, oddly not wanting to be alone even if it meant suffering through the company of him and his associates. Besides...knowing what was going on about her always made her feel better and more in control, even if there was nothing she could do about the circumstances.

"It matters not." Good. She would have insisted anyway just to be contrary.

"Your attire will be suitable," he nodded, then grimaced. "Even if it is the wrong color."

Jane stared down at herself in confusion that lifted as soon as she actually looked at what she had put on earlier...a beautiful, fitted, red dress with bell sleeves trimmed in gold. She couldn't help it: she giggled a bit, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes went back up to him, and to her surprise, she saw him blushing and looking away. "The wrong color," she echoed. Seeing his temple pulse, she said curiously, "What would you have me wear? Green and silver?"

"That would be...preferable," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Any color, any other color...It does not matter. You are free to wear what you wish."

"Fine. I won't need to change, then."

A pulse point throbbed visibly on his temple, but he did not reprimand her. Jane turned her back to the window completely and granted him a watered down version of a courteous smile. "Ready for dinner, Prince Loki?"

Civility. Frigga had shown that even in the face of her enemies, and she was a role model if anyone was. So Jane would be like her and show her son civility even when she really wanted to spit in his face. She went with him downstairs silently.

Once there, he directed her to one of the dining rooms. There were several chairs around their table. Jane elected to sit the farthest away from them-which, unfortunately, meant sitting at the head of the table right beside Loki. She shrunk away and sat completely speechless, hoping she didn't come across as a petulant child.

The guests soon arrived, tall, elegant people, mostly elves. Jane realized she hadn't truly looked closely at the people of Alfheim, or thought much about the elf part. They sort of looked like Lord of the Rings elves, all tall elegance and strength. They greeted Loki in their strange language, and Jane tried making herself look small. Dammit. She was foolish to believe she would be able to understand the meeting.

The food came and she pretended that she belonged, subtly getting a look at each member so she could at least point them out if not name them. She jumped in surprise when her name caught her attention. Her head snapped up and her eyes darted around.

She realized that they were staring at her, that Loki had been introducing her to them. She returned their greetings in English and hoped she sounded gracious. Loki, presumably, translated for her.

"What should I say?" Jane hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"Say nothing. You cannot comprehend the conversation anyway."

"Don't be an ass. You could translate and you know it."

"It does not matter. They are not here for you and were merely curious."

He went on to start an intense conversation with them, leaving Jane to finish her plate, excluded but somehow relieved. As soon as was proper, she planned to excuse herself, but a disruption in the room across the corridor caught her attention. The elf men at her table all stood, weapons drawn. Loki reached over and yanked her to her feet. "What is it? What's happened?"

"Nothing good. Keep quiet."

It had to be serious, then. He would have reacted differently if it were Thor or anyone else from Asgard, and she knew it wasn't anyone from Midgard. She felt a hand take hers, and in her disquiet at the situation refrained from protesting as he led her out of the other door and up the back stairs to her room.

"We need to pack what we can carry and leave."

"What about your allies?"

"None of that matters. We need to-"

The hallway suddenly got chilly, and he swore, wrenching her room door open shoving them both inside to shoot the bolt home. He turned, gestured, and had belongings flying across the room into traveling pack she hadn't noticed before. "I will return."

He strode briskly across her room and slipped into his, no doubt to do packing of his own. He returned a minute or so later with a full pack just as hers finished packing itself.

Jane picked it up and slung it on, pausing to ask as he re-crossed the room, "Who's coming?"

"That is not your concern," he replied brusquely. Jane squared her shoulders. "_I'm_ only in danger because of _you_. You drug me along on top of everything else. So tell me! I have a right to know."

This time, he did lose his temper. "It will not matter to them who you are. They will kill you sooner than look at you and I am your _only_ protection."

Cold had spread into the room by then, and Jane could see her breath. A bit of frost began creeping underneath the door. "Let me guess. They're not here for a family reunion," she said dryly. "Good job on your people skills. Just _A-rated_."

"Hold your tongue," he glowered, reaching out to pull her behind him.

"What, fleeing not an option anymore?"

"Not so soon, no," he snapped.

"Are you a shape-shifter?" Jane asked. "Can you turn into anything useful with wings?"

He paused, stared at her fixedly. "Yes," he said excitedly, relieved, and she realized he had panicked a bit being trapped.

"Do it, then."

She backed up against the wall as his form began to shimmer, stretching and changing, getting closer and closer to the furniture and taking up more and more room. The shifting stopped and a vicious, fearsome, winged creature stood before her, smaller than a dragon with long, sharp, deadly claws and terrifying teeth. It was odd how beauty and death could be tied up in one thing...despite its obvious capacity to kill, there existed something graceful and ethereal about it.

Jane moved forward cautiously and picked up his pack where he'd dropped it, hesitantly approaching him. She would ask him what he has chosen to be afterward. What worried her more was the icing over of the door. The Frost Giants were closing in on them. He bent his knees while she climbed onto his back, and straightened once she had settled into a natural dip, securing the other pack in front of her and leaning forward.

"Just so you know, this is only a circumstance thing. Otherwise, I would _not_ be touching you."

He snorted, and there came a rumbling underneath her almost as if he was laughing at her. She didn't have long to wonder about it before the door got blasted out of the way.

Tall, imposing blue figures appeared, red eyes glaring and the patterns on their skin standing out. The creature beneath her reared and roared, fuming. Jane tightened her grip, holding on for dear life.

The wings-membranous and enormous, started rising, beating, and Jane wondered how, exactly, they would get away. The guards at the door aimed, and the ice thrown was met with a stream of fire that sent them screeching, scattering like ninepins.

"What now?" she asked. Her knees clenched even tighter against his sides as he maneuvered his new, powerful shoulders, turning toward the far wall.

"Oh hell no," Jane said as Loki the creature prepared to charge the wall-she felt all of the muscles bunch and coil-and then he torpedoed forward.

"FUCK!" Jane yelled as they broke through, and she leaned down so tightly against the broad back beneath her she thought she might sink through, stone and debris flying everywhere, exploding, moving. He broke through with another roar and blew a fireball.

"Please don't drop me," Jane begged. "I think I might be sick."

Jane was trembling. She hated heights so much...suddenly Loki cried out, and she saw that he had been hit.

_"Shiiiiiit,"_ she whined, sounding like Darcy for once. She did her best to glare at them as he tried to maintain height, flapping and gliding frantically. They soared over the wall, made it to wide, rolling hills and fields with forest in the distance. She saw the ribbon of a river below. Loki banked right, planning to land, when Jane felt herself slipping.

A scream ripped its way out of Jane's throat; Loki had dipped unintentionally, his right wing struggling to hold up his injured right side. She felt herself tumbling end over end toward the water below where rapids were visible, and jagged rocks. Her heart felt like it would explode, terror seized her. She started to scream again when she felt a set of claws hook into the back of her dress, stopping her fall just eight feet above the most wicked looking rock in that section of the river.

There was a great groan above her, and she feared she might get dropped, but she was steadied a minute later, tumbling harmlessly to the ground once they lowered five feet. She saw Loki glide over her and land much harder than she had, blood splashing the ground. His wings tangled around him and he struggled momentarily before he started getting smaller, reverting back to his usual self.

Jane got to her feet and stumbled to him, dropping to her knees. His clothes were in tatters, his hair wild. Her hands hovered over him uncertainly. She rolled him over, pulling his head into her lap. "You look like hell," she whispered, choked.

A grin curled across his face. "I knew there was a reason I liked you." He winced.

"You save my life again," Jane whispered.

"No," he made a face, "I was merely making sure you would never put on that offensive rag again."

Jane felt like both laughing and crying. She felt the split running up the back, the ragged tears from his claws.

He sat up carefully, and she saw blooms of red on his clothes.

"That's why you dropped me. They hurt you..." She gingerly touched one of the wounds, and he swore vibrantly. "As if you care, Jane."

Jane bit her lip. "I do."

He looked at her sharply, and, perceiving no lie, and said softly, "Why?"

"Because any good and decent person would," she whispered, touching his face. She stood and knelt down, pulling his arm over her shoulder.

"Come on, we need to find some sort of cover."

"You would help me? I thought you hated me."

"You helped me. Besides, I can't leave you here."

He stood with her help, and, although he made no sound, she knew it hurt him. She made no comment as she stumbled along with him, wordlessly making progress until they got underneath the trees.

"There's got to be something I can do," Jane blurted. "Anything..."

She leaned them against a tree to rest. When she opened her eyes, she saw him staring at her chest.

"Do you want to be smacked?" she said in exasperation. His eyes rose to hers. "I was looking at that necklace. It looks like it might have healing properties. Let me see it."

He fumbled at the chain, but Jane shifted away. "Hands off."

She pulled it over her head and handed it to him. He took it, and she saw a splash of blood on his palm.

"Let me help you." Biting the insides of her cheeks so she wouldn't recoil, she took it back and stood on her tiptoes to loop it over his head, and ended up falling against him. His wince that time contorted his entire face, but he steadied them and stared down into hers. In a flash of movement, he stole a kiss from her.

Jane jumped away in shock, and the sudden movement nearly knocked him down. He stared at her.

"Why did you do that?" Jane all but shrieked at him. "You know you're not to touch me."

"Oh, I know," he relied simply. He waited as she calmed, and, warily, Jane approached him again, ducking down and away but going back to support him anyway.

"Thank you," he murmured. Jane swallowed, but said nothing; when they happened upon a cave, she eased him down to the floor immediately, then threw the packs down. She rummaged through one, pulled out a blanket, and helped move him onto it. He murmured his thanks again, and Jane drew away.

"You're still bleeding. I need to...to soak them...they should really be boiled..."

She drug them out, searched their bags for anything that might help, and took it all to where he lay, spreading it across the blanket. She scrambled around and pulled a dagger from one of his boots, hacking at his shirt.

"I swear I'll cut you myself if you make a joke about taking your clothes off," Jane muttered viciously.

Loki didn't make a sound, but watched steadily as she tried cleaning him up, saw her blanch at the gaping, oozing, wounds.

Satisfied with her crude work, Jane settled back on her heels.

"You'll die if we stay here."

"Then why go through the motions? Letting me die would be a gift to you, I would think." Jane knew she couldn't slap him and risk hurting him further, but she did reach forward and pinch him nastily.

"Shut up. You're easier to like when you're quiet."

His head fell back and he laughed, smirking at her. "I love it when you're like that."

Jane blushed. "Stop while you're ahead."

"Or what?" he challenged.

"Or nothing," she flared. How in the world could he possibly think of flirting with her at a time like that? She figured that with someone like Loki, who couldn't keep their knees together if their life depended on it, it happened by default.

He continued regarding her with that same self-satisfied smirk. Jane had the strange urge to kick Loki right then. Rolling her eyes, she picked up the flask of liquor she had used to clean his wounds, opened it, and sniffed. After a moment, she decided to take a swig, and then crawled over to him, carefully helping him sit up, and bit back a rude remark when he tilted his head back against her chest. She tipped the liquor down his throat.

"That's all you're getting right now." She closed it back up. She tried moving a way, but he kept leaning back into her.

"Lo-"

"Please."

That shut her mouth. Pretty soon, she found that he was sleeping. Or he was unconscious. Either way...he would die without help. She couldn't take care of him forever without better knowledge.

There came a rustling, and Jane reached for the dagger.

"You won't need that."

She flinched backward. An old, withered, woman stooped, staring at her. Jane's throat went dry. The woman sat down beside her with a groan, swinging a bag onto her lap.

"I am Frigga-sent," she announced.

"Frigga is dead," Jane replied unthinkingly. The woman eyed her.

"Aye," she agreed, "but she did something for me, and I promised that one day I would do something for her."

"A little late, aren't you?" Jane asked.

The old one sighed. "She made me promise to repay my life debt to her by helping the son that would need the most help."

Jane sat straighter. "Can you help him, now? He's hurt badly and..." Bless Frigga. Saving Loki's sorry ass from beyond.

"Well, I'm a Moss Woman, a healer that lives as one with nature and roams the Realms. I know things about healing others don't. Even Asgard with its fancy equipment doesn't have my secret knowledge."

Jane felt herself relaxing. The woman had to be telling the truth. And what did they have to lose, really? He didn't have much of a chance without her, and killing him didn't seem to be a goal of hers.

Jane heaved Loki off of her and scooted back, making room for the Moss Woman. "Do what you have to."

A secondary thought came to mind.

"What's your name?"

"Lífa."

"Thank you, Lífa," she said quietly.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>The hands finally stopped moving, having finished tending to him just as Loki began coming to. He kept his eyes tightly closed.<p>

"Will he be all right now?" he heard Jane ask from somewhere off to his left.

"I believe so," someone older and female-his savior, no doubt- rasped. What Jane said next surprised him.

"Thank you, Lífa." It surprised him because it seemed genuine, sincere. Lífa spoke again. "Frigga would have liked you."

"She did," Jane responded quietly. Someone stood shakily- Lífa, he assumed.

"My debt is paid. I will tell no one where you are."

Jane murmured a thanks again, and Loki waited until the shuffling grew fainter before he opened his eyes. Jane sat against the cave wall in shadow.

"What happened?" He frowned. The question had come out as a croak, and Jane had almost jumped out of her skin when he spoke.

"I see you're better."

"Disappointed?" He really did want to know. To his surprise, her head fell into her hands. "No." She sounded angry at herself.

A moment later, she cleared her throat and raised her head from its cradled position.

"She owed some sort of debt to your mother."

Ah. That's how he had been saved, and it explained what he had overheard. It seemed that, even dead, Mother seemed to be the only one that gave a damn. He wished he had not snapped at her so...he missed her. He repressed the ache in his heart and cleared his throat.

"I see you got into the food supply."

Jane almost looked embarrassed.

"I was hungry...and sometimes I can be a nervous eater."

Loki sat up stiffly, wincing. "Worried?"

"That I was stranded," she replied sardonically, but granted him a real smile. Then it fell. Doubt and confusion flickered in her eyes.

Loki filed that away for later and gestured at pots, pans, and other things he _knew_ they hadn't had.

"Lífa brought them."

Oh. That smoothed things out a bit.

"She said you shouldn't move around very much. I'll have to take care of you."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that," he told her. Exasperation replaced the emotions swirling around in her gaze.

"Really?" Jane sighed. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

"I have no idea what you mean." It was perhaps one of his most honest moments. Jane rolled her eyes in consternation, and Loki's brow furrowed in confusion. "Well? Care to explain?"

"Quit stripping me with your eyes," Jane snapped. "Christ, just because you were with me once..."

"I rather thought you wanted to forget that."

Jane scrunched up her features in distaste.

"Believe me, I do. You're making it...difficult."

Loki didn't know quite how to take that. Jane gathered food and brought it over to him.

"So," she tried conversationally, "what was that _thing_ you turned into to get us away from them?"

"A Bandersnatch." He shrugged.

"A...a _Bandersnatch_? Like from _Wonderland_?" Her eyes bugged a bit. _"'The frumious Bandersnatch,'_ she muttered. "A portmanteau of fuming and furious."

"What would you have preferred, a dragon?" This time he rolled his eyes.

Jane massaged her temples. "Patience is a virtue," she mumbled to herself. Her hand dropped. "Eat," she prodded gently. "Then you can sleep."

"What a good a decent person you are."

Jane eyed him. "Don't push it. My kindness and patience aren't limitless."

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Darcy really hated seeing the big guy in such disarray. She was the only person he had left with his mother, father, brother, and Jane all gone (the Warriors Three and Sif had better get home quickly), and she figured she wasn't all that much consolation.<p>

A guard came to the door of the Throne Room.

"A dignitary is here. Where is our lord?"

"Are you stupid? He isn't seeing anyone now. Go away!" Darcy grouched through the door. She slumped down in relief when she heard his footfalls fade away.

She bit her lip and glanced at the throne. Thor looked like hell.

"Thank you, Darcy." Darcy jumped and swore. She thought he was doing that tune-out-the-world thing again.

"Hey, no problem. This is way better than six credits. And no one's trying to kill me this time, either."

It startled her when Thor smiled gently.

"You are a great gift, Darcy Lewis."

Darcy blinked. "Sure. It's just the depression and lack of companionship talking. But hey. Beats nothing."

That time, he laughed. "Your humor never fails you."

Darcy shrugged. She didn't really know what to say to Thor. Sorry your brother's a bastard? Sorry he probably ganked your dad? Sorry you're both orphans now? That your friends are carrying out your duties because you're a mess, that your family is a train wreck? It was easier to laugh so you wouldn't cry, and if she could keep Humpty Dumpty from tumbling off of the wall, she would give it her damnedest.

Darcy made her way over to where Thor paced useless, passing Mjölnir from hand to hand.

"You really need to get out. Come on."

Thor stopped and gave her an expression wrought with confusion.

"I do not-"

"Out," Darcy tried again. To go somewhere and do something."

Thor regarded her helplessly. He started to reply when the doors opened and Sif and the Warriors Three entered.

"Thor," Sif began, stopping when she caught sight of Darcy.

"We heard what happened," Volstagg said gently. "We will find her."

Darcy saw something pass over Sif's countenance. The warrior woman moved closer to Thor and put a hand on his shoulder. "We are all here for you to help you through this difficult time."

"You speak as if she has died," Thor rejoined angrily, and Sif dropped her hand, retreating.

Darcy started panicking.

Before anyone could object or a fight could start, she grabbed Thor by the arm, shocked when he didn't pull away, and started guiding him to the door. "He's going out right now."

"Going out?" Hogun sounded nonplussed.

Darcy turned around and gave them all a meaningful look. "He needs it more than anyone. And when he comes back, you can all make war plans and sign treaties and find Jane, or whatever the hell it is you do. Joust or some shit. It doesn't matter. He needs some stress relief."

"Darcy-" Thor began, but, with surprising strength, she had yanked him out of the room.

"Food, anyone?" Volstagg asked after a moment. The others stared at him. _"What? I'm hungry!"_

...xxx...

* * *

><p>They were in the cave for almost a week. Jane changed the dressings on Loki's wounds and fed both of them. Lífa returned occasionally-Jane was sure it was to make sure they hadn't kicked off while they were stuck in one place like sitting ducks.<p>

She set another fire, put water on to boil, and started to fix tea (which Lífa had left ingredients for) when she noticed her hands shaking. Something messed with her balance, and she felt an uncharacteristic touch of dizziness. Before she knew what happened, she had dropped the container she had been holding. The contents skittered across the floor. As if from afar, she heard her name being called, but, dazedly, she nearly fell.

Someone caught her, and her surroundings rushed back into focus.

"Jane." Loki's worried voice was right by her ear. She felt herself being lowered to the floor.

"I'm fine," she mumbled embarrassedly. She raised her hand to brush her hair out of her eyes and saw red. A shard had cut her hand.

"Dammit," she muttered, sitting up. "Where are those bandages?"

They floated over enveloped in a green cloud.

"Thanks." Jane reached for it, but Loki snatched it out of the air before she could and took her hand. Jane let him bandage it for her. She felt ill and off-kilter, and tired on top of it. She noticed that he had subtly drawn her to his chest as he worked. She squirmed uncomfortably.

"When are we leaving?" she asked to take her mind off of the unwelcome contact. She felt his eyes on her.

"I do not think it wise to travel as of yet."

Jane sighed and visibly deflated. She wished she were back in her own room or her lab...even that hotel that she had been forced to leave behind. She felt a rush of overwhelming emotion and fought desperately not to cry, only just succeeding.

She moved away and huddled by the cave wall, searching through the bags for a book. She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Jane," Loki began.

Jane shrugged him off. "I'm only here because of you. I was pretty much every positive letter in the alphabet from amiable to content to zingy and then...now people want to _kill_ me by mistaken association."

It was rather cruel after the longest coexistence they had had, but she didn't apologize, or check the silence that ensued. Broodingly, she hunched over her book and squinted. A light appeared above her, illuminating the pages.

"I know you think you're cute or something," Jane grumbled, "but-"

"I do not appreciate your attitude."

That made her glance up sharply, and half of why consisted of how it had been said-partly sullen and partly sour, with a tinge of anger, but the sort of anger that came from enduring something.

"I saved your life again."

"And I saved _yours_," Jane snapped at Loki. "So we're even. And if anyone should be guilt tripping someone..."

A tense silence ensued. Jane sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just going stir-crazy. I know this can't be easy on you, either."

His anger dissipated somewhat.

"We might just kill each other if we stay cooped up much longer," she added, and saw his jaw clench and unclench.

Jane closed her book carefully and put it away again, standing carefully. No dizziness hit her that time. She extended her hand to Loki.

"Let's take a walk."

He was the last person she would normally take a walk with, but considering no one else happened to be trapped in a cave with her...After a moment of hesitation, he took it and stood, too.

Jane peeked out of the cave warily before stepping out, glad that Loki had healed for the most part and wouldn't need to lean on her. The woods were quiet, the river burbling off in the distance. She was glad that it was calmer where they were stuck. She had had one too many dreams of drowning or being impaled (or both). Leaves were strewn underfoot, and Jane had to watch the ground to keep from tripping over large roots. It was very peaceful out there. She might have even enjoyed it any other time. Loki, at least, had stopped flirting with her every ten minutes, and staring at her in that nearly-creepy, unnerving way no doubt fueled by some twisted unresolved longing. Or his usual sleep-with-what-has-a-pulse tendencies. Either way, she was glad for a lesser intensity.

What appeared to be a pine martin with horns darted out across their path and stopped, chattering at them. Loki's arm shot out to hold Jane back.

"What is that?" Jane whispered as it bared pointed little fangs in a grin.

He said a name that sounded sort of sing-song and odd.

"In English?" He glanced down at her.

"Do not touch it on its skull. That will make it strike out at you. The poison on those fangs will kill you within five minutes."

Jane meant to say that that was no kind of answer when it darted forward and settled on her foot, staring up at her. "Do not move," he said under his breath, uncurling his fist, where a green fireball started growing. The creature continued to stare up at Jane innocently.

"Wait," she murmured, carefully bending down. He hissed a warning at her, but she paid him no mind and scratched the creature along the jawline and just behind the ear. It shocked her when it leaned its head against her knee, making an odd sound akin to purring.

"I'll be damned," Loki muttered. He glanced at Jane wonderingly. "Interesting, Miss Foster. Very _interesting_ indeed. They do not usually take to things outside of their species."

"So they're sort of like you," she commented wryly, if good-naturedly. The creature licked her and darted off into the underbrush. Jane watched for it until the vegetation stopped trembling, and then she turned back to Loki. He was staring at her _once a-freaking-gain_. He shrugged noncommittally. "I cannot deny it." Dry humor surfaced in the response, and Jane smiled a bit and nibbled on her lip.

"We're breaking all the stereotypes," Jane continued cheerfully. She leaned against the tree closest to her after glancing over it to make sure she wouldn't regret it. He grew quiet and somewhat serious.

"Are we?" he whispered. Jane frowned, but stood her ground, pressing a tinsey bit more firmly into the tree.

She watched him, half afraid, knowing he wouldn't purposely hurt her but wavering between offense and defense plans in case he...she didn't know. It hurt to not be able to trust someone like that. It scared her, too. He kept going closer and closer to her, and Jane's eyes flickered around.

"Please don't hurt me," she blurted, cringing. She sounded pathetic, and she instantly regretted it as she saw pain flash into his eyes, eyes that hardened a little.

He had paused at her plea.

"I would never hurt you," he replied quietly, solemn.

"But you have," she whispered. He looked away from her.

"You will never get past it, will you?" His fists balled up, clenching and unclenching.

Jane felt fury rise anew with something else that confused her completely and seemed almost contradictory to everything else, every emotion, her mind and body screamed. Compassion. Sympathy. Not forgiveness, though, not just yet.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully, swallowing. "I mean...I don't know that I can forgive you...but I don't hate you. Not anymore."

"Then what?" He whirled back around, ardent.

"Is it just because of how much of a good and decent person you are?" The mockery stung. Jane bit back an angry retort and angry tears and flashed, "No, it isn't, you ass. I think everyone, even you, deserves a chance. Thor-and don't say you can't bear to hear his name- isn't perfect, wasn't always so good as he is now."

"I am not Thor," he snarled. Jane stepped forward, within arm's length.

"No, you're not. Thor never would have done that to me."

Something in him snapped, and he grabbed her, shoving her against the tree she had leaned against minutes earlier. Their gazes held, until Jane said very quietly, "I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me, Loki. Don't you ever keep your word?"

He jerked his hands away as if she had slapped him.

"A good and decent person," he hissed, "does _not_ act like that."

"What, doesn't hold you accountable?" she jabbed. "Then I guess Frigga herself was blacker than you are."

He came just short of putting his hands on her, she could tell. He did, however, get in her face.

"Never speak of her again." He sounded deadly. Jane, though, seemed to be tempting fate.

"Or what?" The taunt came out thoughtlessly.

He didn't strike her as she thought he would. Instead, he went very still, and then trailed a hand down her arm. He leaned forward just a breath from her ear, breathing heavily, and slid his hand onto the small of her back. It was enough to make Jane flinch. "I can be very..._persuasive_," he whispered directly over her ear. He stayed close to her, and Jane, chest heaving, stayed very still.

"I'm sorry." And she was, not because she was afraid of him, but because she realized she had went much too far and prodded where she shouldn't have, where he was sorest, and that no one had the right to take one of his only true treasured possessions away from him. He had already lost his mother. She shouldn't add insult to injury and trample on her image.

He drew back, still very close to her. His lips neared her jawline. "Is it because you are afraid of me? Afraid I intend to harm you?"

"No," Jane told him truthfully, and explained what she had realized and come to a conclusion on. "It's not very good or decent of me to hurt you over and over just because I'm still miserable. It isn't fair. Just because I don't forgive you doesn't give me the right. Even if you're just as much in the wrong."

His arms came around her, and he _held_ her, hand on the back of her head, and hugged her. "Thank you." Jane blinked back astonished tears and cleared her throat.

"I need a bath."

"As do I." Well, hell. There was that flirtatiousness again. It had been good while it lasted, that absence of it. Jane pushed at him. "I don't need help, thank you."

"But I may," he continued, all velvet and persuasion. Jane set her mouth in a firm line. "No. Absolutely not."

"I have already seen you naked. It is nothing new."

"That's why the answer's still no," Jane groaned, exasperated. "You'll get all..." She didn't want to think about how he might get. "No, just _no_."

He sighed, retreating. "Fine."

All of his intense emotion and anger seemed to have vanished. He held out his arm to her.

"Shall we?" Jane sucked on her front teeth in thought, then nodded. Might as well.


	3. Cotton Candy Is Good for The Nerves

**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**

Chapter 3: Cotton Candy Is Good for The Nerves

_"We face the path of time... and yet I fight."_

- Alice in Chains

* * *

><p>Okay. So maybe taking Thor Odinson to a carnival was a bad idea. Maybe it was corny, and desperate, and downright idiotic. But Darcy didn't give many fucks, so she took him right along anyway after she made sure Heimdall had zapped them to a nice-ish one and, of course, that Thor wasn't dressed like the weirdo Space Viking King he was.<p>

She had to pull him away from one of those throw-the-hoop-on-the-bottleneck booths before he destroyed any chances some less-accurate person might have of getting a prize and steered him toward the Rondez-view ferriswheel. She got their tickets punched and climbed in first. Thor stood staring uncertainly.

"Lady Darcy, I do not believe that this small container is adequate..."

"Get your royal ass in here _this instant!_"

He obeyed.

The technician closed their door and bolted it. The machine started turning, and Darcy grinned at Thor. "Just wait and you'll see why it's worth it."

Thor's answering smile was real but oh so sad. He knew she was trying.

Darcy waited breathlessly as they ascended to the top, where she knew they would stop moving and get a spectacular view of their surroundings. The little lift ground gently to a halt, and Darcy excitedly examined the scenery far below. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Thor said nothing, and Darcy peeked over to see if he had started tearing up on her. He seemed reserved, but appreciative.

On the way back down, Thor quietly thanked her, but Darcy knew he still wasn't really having fun. He was humoring her. She drug him around on ridiculous rides and through the water park, to some silly show and a ferry ride. Through it all, there remained a certain glumness to him. By the time they had seen everything, Darcy was at the end of her rope. Then, she saw _cotton candy_.

While Thor sulked by the pony ride tent, Darcy got enough for two. "Here."

Thor glanced down, and then his brow furrowed.

"What is the meaning of this...pink cloud mass?"

Darcy had to keep herself from laughing out loud.

"It's called cotton candy. Cotton candy is good for the nerves."

Thor seemed doubtful of her but took some anyway.

His eyes widened. "It disappeared."

Darcy rolled her eyes affectionately. "Yeah, it tends to do that, big guy."

Thor smiled haltingly, which made Darcy smile, too, and gave her courage.

"It is very sweet."

Darcy nodded and started devouring her own. Thor contemplated his before attacking it with gusto. They walked and talked as they ate the treat and licked sticky fingers covered in sugary goodness.

They came upon a movie theatre, and Darcy saw that the cinema featured the new _Hobbit_ movie. She tugged on Thor's sleeve and pointed.

"What is a...Hobbit?" He tipped his head to the side curiously, staring at Bilbo and the others.

"That is," Darcy said plainly, pointing at Bilbo, and explained a few things to him. "So...wanna see it?"

She didn't really give him a real chance to reply, and instead looped her arm through his and steered him through the doors. She hustled him around and mumbled out of the corner of her mouth to him, "Act like you belong and leave the talking to me."

She walked them right into the showing room after reading the signs and settled them in.

"Damn, I should have asked about popcorn. Don't go anywhere."

She sprang up and returned a minute later with a full bucket and a drink, situating them between the two of them. "We're sharing," she announced with finality, and stuck her hand in for a mouthful.

Thor made no comment, and took a careful sip out of the cup so Darcy would have some. The lights turned down and the screen flickered to life. Under her breath, she tried explaining more about the world where Hobbits and wizards lived with dwarves and dragons. Thor liked popcorn too, apparently, and Darcy decided not to take any more after a while. Thor Odinson was a bottomless pit, she thought.

At the end of the showing, Darcy got to her feet, picking up the empty cup and carton. Thor held the door for her and she squeezed through, throwing them in the waste bins. She would love to see a good poetry slam, but didn't know how much more he could take. None of it, she knew, eased his pain very much.

They exited through a side door and came out into a small side street. Thor kept in pace with her.

"Have you anything else planned?" He sounded distracted, and really, she couldn't blame him. A broken heart hurt like a bitch.

"Did you want to do something else?" Thor stopped and extended a hand to her shoulder.

"Darcy," he said, "you are a good friend to have. I apologize."

Darcy hugged him, saying nothing. She started to pull away when a noise caught her attention. She tilted her head and then glanced seriously at Thor. "Did you hear that?"

His eyes were narrowed. "I meant to ask the same thing of you."

He drew her protectively to his side. They turned, scanning the area around them. Darcy was the first to see it.

A small puppy lay trembling, partially hidden by a cardboard box, in an alley across the street from them, curled against an old mattress. Darcy raised a shaking finger, and Thor strode over at once with her at his heels. The small creature peeped up at them dazedly. It was so scrawny it looked painful, and its ear was torn. A once glossy coat looked shaggy and unkempt.

"Give me your jacket, please," Darcy begged Thor. He had already knelt down, and she squatted at his side, easing his jacket around the pup. It whimpered, cringing, but let her wrap the material around it and draw it out.

"I'm sorry for this," Darcy told it, and then quickly checked to see what the sex was. "I wonder how old she is." Darcy looked at Thor. Compassion practically oozed from him.

"Thor, she needs us. She needs _someone_, at any rate."

Thor extended one of his overly large, powerful hands and gently touched the top of the puppy's head. She whined and leaned her head into his touch. Darcy felt around her neck for a collar and found none. "No collar or tags," she reported, then examined her underside for surgical scars. "She hasn't had her surgeries, either. I wonder if she's ever been taken care of. She's probably from the litter of some stray. And she'll starve or worse if we leave her here."

She met Thor's gaze pleadingly.

"Can I bring her with us back to Asgard?"

Thor answered without any hesitation. "As you wish. She would not need or want for anything."

He helped Darcy stand, cradling the puppy tenderly. It was amazing, how very easy he could be. How did anyone hate this man? She let out a relieved breath. "Well...she needs one thing now."

Thor glanced at her inquisitively. Darcy obliged the unspoken question. "She needs a name, Thor."

Darcy didn't know how long they stood there, only that she jumped when the clock in the square blocks away chimed loudly, and a bell tolled. Finally, tears threatening in his voice, he whispered something that made Darcy gasp, and not in the good way.

"I wish to name her...Frigga."

...xxx...

* * *

><p>"You have another passenger." The greeting met them before the man. Heimdall approached and stared down at the bundle in Darcy's arms. Thor gave him a watery smile, and they all sort of dodged mentioning that his eyes were a tad redder than usual, or that his cheeks glistened somewhat.<p>

"Her name is Frigga." His voice didn't waver, and Darcy smiled proudly. He wasn't broken yet.

"I heard the first time." Heimdall smiled kindly at them, gave Darcy a meaningful look of appreciation, and lightly touched Frigga on the ear. His smile faded slightly, and he told them seriously, "Laufey's other sons have come to request they be remanded custody of your brother for his crimes against them." And there it went. The light in his eyes fizzled with news that came like a sucker punch. "Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker," Darcy blurted. "Can they do that?"

Thor straightened angrily. "They shall not. Even if we had him, I would not."

Heimdall grunted. "There will likely be war."

A determined Thor marched off toward Asgard. Darcy threw Heimdall a helpless glance and ran after Thor.

"Thor, please wait!" He slowed, but just barely.

"How dare they," he raged. "After all I have done to make amends, to make peace. After all father did."

"What did Loki even do to _them_?" Darcy wondered, knowing _exactly_ what he had done on earth from Jane.

"He did much, and half of it was with me. This cannot hold."

Darcy grew quiet. "Would there really be war?" It was such a quiet, more fearful than she had intended, question.

"Possibly," Thor grunted. Darcy felt Little Frigga press herself into Darcy's chest and whine again.

By the time they had reached the actual city, Thor wasn't any calmer. He strode rather forcefully inside, brushing angrily past everyone and ignoring any leering Jotuns they passed by. Darcy scurried in his wake. He threw the doors to the Throne Room open and stormed into it. Sif and the Warriors Three sat around a long meeting table with the blood brothers and a few other officials. Before Thor could even open his mouth, or his friends could convene, Darcy jumped in, suddenly furious, and probably going to regret tossing civility and court manners out of the window. "You inconsiderate mother fucking bastards. You dare come and throw this absolute _shit_ at his feet?"

She swallowed. They eyed her coolly, but she kept her moxie close about her. "No one has time for your temper tantrums. We have more important things to do than validate your fantasies of being poor, helpless, victims when it is damn well known you can't stop seeing blood even when you have your eyes closed. So shut up and get the fuck out and don't you _dare_ try to start a freakin' war."

Sif gasped. Hogun covered his face. Volstagg looked about him gravely. Fandral opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish. The Jotuns radiated indignation.

"What right have you?" One of the Jotuns stood, and Darcy realized that it was a woman.

"Mortal, human, _Midgardian_ woman," the Jotun sneered. "You. Know. _Nothing_."

Darcy jerked her chin up. "I know bullshit when I see it, and it's flooding out of each one of your pores."

Thor cleared his throat, and Darcy stepped off of her soap box and let him take over. "Lady Darcy may be brash and blunt, but she has a point." Thor paused, then continued. "Our history is long and wrought with disquiet, but your peoples' is much more than that. I mean you no disrespect, but I must ask you to leave. Your request will not be granted or considered. The person in question is one of _our_ citizens and as such-"

One of the other Jotuns had snorted disdainfully when Thor had put that heavy stress on the word. "He is a traitor. All traitor blood is relinquished."

"Asgardian traitors are still Asgardian and will be treated accordingly."

"Like you were, every time you were at fault?" another blue face taunted. Sif stood, drawing her weapon.

"This meeting was to be one of diplomacy. You have been dismissed. I advise you to leave quietly and with dignity and not have to be dragged out by your sorry necks."

There came a very tense moment, and then the party stood, filing one by one out of the door.

"Good luck," the woman called spitefully. "You shall need it if you are not to be bitten by your pet snake."

In a moment, they had gone, an escort signaled by Sif to follow them and clear out any stragglers.

Sif sheathed her weapon and sat, motioning for Thor to join her and their three other confidants. Darcy sat, too, petting Little Frigga.

"Some on Midgard would want to see him suffer, too," Hogun sighed at last. "He has done many things, though none as grievous as the last. I do not question your decision, though, after what we went through with the Dark Elves. He is not all bad."

Sif snorted. "Well," Darcy inserted whimsically, "he's bad, but not evil."

Fandral looked at her oddly.

"What _is_ that little beastie you have there?"

Darcy had forgotten about her. She gently lifted her onto the table, where Little Frigga stared around at them interestedly.

"That is Frigga," Thor said quietly. "Darcy and I found her on the street in Midgard just as we were to return."

His friends stayed silent. Little Frigga's tail wagged and she yipped happily. She bounded somewhat stiffly up to each of them and gave them a playful lick and nudge, and then tripped running to Thor, who she showered with sloppy wet kisses, making contented sounds. He cradled her to his chest. Raising his eyes to theirs, he said matter-of-factly, "Now tell me, friends, what duties I have been neglecting?"

Hesitantly, they began telling him everything, but no one mentioned the sore topic of the missing Jane or his conniving brother.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Jane not only made Loki keep his back turned, but separated him from her by several feet, and absolutely demanded he stay in her line of sight the entire time. She scowled. Freaking jerk actually had a point about it being dangerous to bathe alone, but Jane absolutely would not allow any taking of turns to wash each other. She honestly couldn't believe he had suggested it even jokingly. And it wasn't like the bastard shut the hell up or stopped flirting while they washed, either.<p>

She dunked her head and resurfaced, watching the curve of his back as he washed his own hair. Something rustled in the tree over her head, and she had barely tipped it back to investigate when one of the pine martin creatures landed on her, clinging to her breasts and scrabbling to gain footing on her shoulder. Of course she wanted to scream, terribly so, but terror seized her. "Loki," she called almost brokenly. "Help."

He started to make some snappy remark when she barked irritably, "I'm serious. It's another one of those pine martin things..."

He whipped around. The little creature chattered, and Jane winced as it climbed up onto her shoulder completely, sniffing at her neck.

"Is it the same one?"

"I cannot tell. Pet it anyway. Carefully."

Jane gulped and shakily raised her own hand, feeling along until she found a furry underside. Loki came up and put her hand on the little creature's ear and jaw. She fought down the first rude thing that popped into her head and instead muttered a thanks, petting the odd little beast.

Soon, she heard purring and felt it rub its face against her neck. It craned its neck to stare into her face, and then darted its tongue out, licking her squarely on the chin. She gasped in shock, staring as it jumped down. Right about then, the burning started, a burn that radiated outward and consumed her, followed by a flash of ice-cold that set her off balance.

It felt like her sadness had intensified, magnified a hundred fold. Even the slant of the sun rays made her heart ache, and then her heart opened to accept the weight of what seemed the entire universe. She couldn't breathe; her chest literally felt like it would explode. Loki picked her up and carried her to shore, where she curled in on herself, panting.

"Just let it out Jane." He had leaned down by her ear then. "Let it all go...cry. You have to."

Jane started making strangled, choking sob sounds, but still no tears came, nothing. "Listen to me. You _will_ weep."

He sounded like he meant to kill her. Even that didn't help, but made her despair and fill with melancholy fury. She felt his hand slide up her abdomen, and then she did cry, one, long, wrenching wail as a single tear, enormous and strange, and seemingly impossible, formed, kept forming until an orb big and round enough to fit snugly into a palm fell. Loki caught it and sat back, staring at her tear.

Jane wretchedly crawled over to him and wept normal tears. Speechless, he hesitantly patted her back for consolation.

"It is a wish," he said quietly. "They find someone that has shown them a kindness of some sort and give it to them as a gift. They only have one in their lifetime, and once given they can never give one again. It is your wish to use however you choose, whenever you choose."

Jane quieted somewhat, noticing, perhaps, that he had pulled her into his lap and against his chest, cradling her.

"So that was all for a _wish_?" she asked weakly. "That was a _gift_?"

He held up her wish. It looked so strange. She knew it was her tear, but it looked like a very round bubble-shaped crystal, membranous to the touch. "Be careful what you wish for. It may have unforeseen consequences."

"I'll save it," Jane murmured thoughtfully. "It won't break on accident, will it?"

He set his chin on the crown of her head. "No. You have to mean it."

Jane frowned intensely. She cleared her throat several times and tried to think of a way to tell him to get the fuck away in a more polite manner. Seeming to sense her discomfort, which grew exponentially by the second, he leaned away from her. Jane scrambled up and glared when she saw him continuing to stare at her. "Mind. Your. Fucking. Eyes." She narrowed her own balefully. He smirked, rolled his own, and said, "Mind that mouth of yours."

Jane huffed and brushed herself off. She trudged back to the water and started to bathe again. After a moment (probably filled with staring at her bum) he went back as well.

"Thanks for saving my ass," she said after a moment.

He smirked smugly. "Which time?" Jane rolled her eyes. "Both."

He faced her. "Well of course I did. It's one of your appealing features."

Jane had to keep herself from slapping him. "Wish I could say the same about you," she bantered back. His eyes narrowed, and then he splashed her.

"Hey! No fair!" She splashed him back, and soon they had made a game out of it, her laughter filling the air as she temporarily forgot their situation.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Thor sat broodingly, switching his mighty, famed hammer from hand to hand. Little Frigga lay by his feet, dozing peacefully, having been bathed, groomed, fed, and cared for medically. She snuffled contentedly, and he absentmindedly lowered a hand to pet her. He missed mother terribly. He never knew how much he would until she was gone. Not only had Odin favored him, he had practically hogged him. Frigga always loved each of her sons, and gave them both attention. She had always inevitably been so very close to her other son, though. It was ironic, really, that the one person that could possibly comprehend and hurt more than he and father acted as if he despised him. Which, he reflected, wasn't completely and totally uncalled for, as he had been blind and not sober for so very long.<p>

That, of course, didn't change his need to punch his beloved brother in the face (preferably more than once) for again screwing around. Jane had been a step too far. Darcy had told him what she had said to Loki about his wronging of Jane being the biggest blow he could land. She had been correct. Short of mother and his friends, who did he care about nearly as much? He knew his rampant emotions were making him distraught, keeping him from serving his people properly. His depression alone made him want to bludgeon himself with Mjölnir. The Jotuns just kept _asking_ for war, begging to be throttled. Midgard was so fragile...How could he even consider the others when those three alone gave him enough strife?

Frigga perked her ears, getting to her feet and placing her head in Thor's lap. Her eyes seemed almost reproachful, but not unkind. He smiled and scratched her uninjured ear. She hummed and licked his fingers, backing up when he stood suddenly and left the throne room.

She padded beside him dutifully. He would open a room door or touch a wall every so often, smiling nostalgically. Oh, the memories. Mother had read to he and Loki in that study, and he had stolen a kiss from Jane underneath that arch. Sif had played tag with him in that wing...Father had taught him to read just there...There (here he chuckled) he and Jane had been together against that wall. In a garden he glided through like a ghost, he had been taught how to fight. It all felt so reassuring even while his insides swirled in uncertainty.

He eventually stopped on a balcony overlooking a training field for his warriors. Frigga sat at rest, leaning her head against his calf, her weight almost the most reassuring thing of all. All of her innocence had not been tainted by their turmoil and feuding. She didn't take sides, and she didn't seem to be very prone to being angry. She...it pained him as much as pleased him that she lived up to her namesake in a minor way...but he wanted the real thing, and a puppy, even bearing her name, did not another Frigga make.

Someone's shoe scuffed on a stone as they hesitantly shuffled up to him from behind. Without turning, he knew Darcy had come up to stand abreast of him, with Frigga between them. The puppy barked happily in greeting and demanded attention. Darcy spoke to her and picked her up, turning to face Thor.

"Your face looks like someone kicked Frigga and then took a shot at you. Stewing in your own negativity?"

Thor graced her with a soft upturning of his lips. She never did hit too far off, their Darcy. At least she hadn't told him he looked like hell; he knew she had been thinking it. Jane had pointed out that particular judgment look of hers for him one day after she had been sick, and, she said, disgusting, though he thought her beautiful no matter how she looked or what she wore.

"This might seem really inappropriate and out of the blue," Darcy began, which made him stare at her in a very un-Thor-ish way, "but could you maybe give me a dancing lesson some time when all of this is over? Like...I don't even have two left feet. I have like, I dunno what expression to use."

Baffled, Thor opened and then closed his mouth. That was a new one. Darcy, on her part, turned red in embarrassment. "Right then. I'll just..."

She put Frigga down, who protested, and started to leave when Thor stopped her with a hand on her elbow. "Now, Darcy?"

Darcy squirmed. She didn't really think it through, but felt she didn't have an abundance of people to ask anyway. She nodded, and Frigga cocked her head as she watched the two.

Thor set about positioning their arms and hands correctly. Darcy bit her lip and hoped she wouldn't make too much of a fool of herself. She tried following Thor's lead, and only tripped over his feet twice, and, thankfully, didn't step on them (not that he would have said anything). Frigga got to her paws and pranced around the room, watching them. Thor was very patient, and a good dancer. Or it at least seemed that way to Darcy. She meant to tell him so when she accidentally tripped backwards. Thor caught her and brought her closer for inspection.

"Are you well, Darcy?" He bent his head over her and turned her face this way and that.

Darcy had the indescribable and frightening urge to _kiss him dammit_. And of course, being an impulsive idiot, she did, just a chaste little peck. It was enough to make her slither out of his grasp and flee before he could question her, though. Frigga barked a farewell, and a confused Thor stared after her.


	4. Pursued

**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**

Chapter 4: Pursued

_"…I think our little game ends here. So tell me, thief, how do you choose to die?"_

-The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

* * *

><p>He never could see her face...which, he had to admit, was probably the most infuriating of all. A niggling voice in his mind told him he had seen her body somewhere...that it mattered more than any of his past lovers...but he didn't quite understand. He merely knew that no one else had better touch her, and no one would dare hurt her without suffering his...<em>extreme displeasure.<em> It made a lot to reflect on as he softly kissed the woman, gently caressing with butterfly soft flights of motion and delicate patterns.

Many thought him some sick, twisted, sadistic or masochistic lover, some animalistic brute...but, he reflected, as he carefully peppered her collarbone, that remained untrue. He rubbed his nose against her skin, smelling her...realizing that it, too, was familiar, that it screamed to be recognized. His grip on her was careful, as if he thought she might break in his grasp. _'You _do_ break everything you touch'_, he thought bitterly, but didn't let it sour their moment. His lips whispered over her chest to each nipple at a time, enveloping them, his mouth warm and yielding to her flesh, his teeth just barely scraping along it.

She moaned, and it more than delighted him: It made his heart swell. His fingers seemed to remember the pale, smooth abdomen they slid down, and the curve of her hips and thighs. Her back was a tender friend from memory...his fingers skittered down and all but tickled her knees. She laughed into his neck, and he smiled, cradling her as he ghosted his hand between her legs. She gasped and bent into him, pressing her face into his shoulder.

Her voice trembled in his ear, but it was muffled somehow, muted, but again, _familiar_. He felt her hand dancing across his chest and down to his navel, and he knew even before her hand slipped between _his_ legs what she intended to do. He hissed and tried shifting gently away because he couldn't think straight when she did that, but the voice, suddenly clear and distinct, whispered in his ear playfully. "_Tease_. After all of your flirting and stripping with your eyes, you can't open your knees?"

He yanked himself away. He knew that voice. Jane. She lay beside of him, her face suddenly as visible as the rest of her, which had quickly become less fuzzy as well. She sat up and draped her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry if that was unfair."

She peeked at him from underneath her hair. "Well, Prince Loki?"

The dream world dissolved around him, and suddenly he awoke, clothed and on the floor of the cave he had shared with the real Jane for near a week and a half. A few days had passed since obtaining her wish. She lay against the opposite wall, sleeping peacefully.

He scowled. What a lovesick fool he felt like to have such a dream. He cursed himself. It was stupid, considering that even with the progress from where they had come from to where they stood, she still had a strong aversion to him. But perhaps...?

Had she not been watching him while they bathed, had she not let him hold her? Perhaps he should test her? He snuck over to her and sat quietly, watching her for some time before he hesitantly extended a hand and brushed her hair from her face. He flattened his palm against her forehead, and began weaving a dream into her slumber.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Jane was confused. Her dream had suddenly shifted violently from blissful calm to...well...something that felt very vivid and <em>real<em>. Someone was daintily drawing loops and designs on the exposed skin of her stomach and breasts. She started, and with a jolt conceived that she lay naked on some illusionary sort of feather bed with silken sheets. She felt as if she would have panicked had it been real, or under other circumstances, but felt an inexplicable sense of calm and safety. So she kept her eyes closed as the delicate and affectionate hand drew away, replaced by tender, smooth lips and a warm tongue darting out to lick at her flesh and flick at her nipples. She gasped involuntarily, without any warning whatsoever, and with perfect trust reached out blindly, looping her arms about someone's shoulders.

She didn't really want to open her eyes. Something told her she _shouldn't_, some cloying voice in her head. The mouth sought hers, all welcome greeting and fervent seeker of approval, gentle and patient. It left hers and took a detour across her jawline, and by the hollow of her throat; it skimmed her pulse point and pressed easy kisses to her ear and eyelids. The hands were affectionate and dainty once more, but more curious, running over her curves like a sculptor examining his or her work, over joints and bones and the last jutting vertebra of her spine, trailing tentatively through her hair.

Jane had never had someone handle her so delicately, so carefully, as if every fiber of their being adored her on some level. She felt loved, cherished even. With a pang tinged with regret and suddenly bitter nostalgia, she realized that even Thor had not done so. He was always so enthusiastic and heavy-handed, crashing through their intimacy.

But this...all of the feather-soft treatment enraptured her, made her stretch along the body she had yet to peek at, her knees brushing against other knees.

A sense of foreboding and dread settled in her stomach, but the toneless voice whispered reassurances while the man, for she knew it had to be a man, remained silent, showering her with more faint, if slightly more fervent, kisses, anywhere he could reach with them laying on their sides. She felt him rest his head in the crook of her neck, burying his face in her hair, his nose tickling her neck and his hair brushing against her cheek, tickling her. She felt him move away, and her knees part, both just before the same adoring mouth blew carefully over her more sensitive places. Jane arched forward before she had even been touched, unable to help herself.

The same warm tongue pressed gingerly against her outer lips, gliding through the valleys of her folds. Jane whimpered, her hands groping for his head to have something to hold onto. Her knees trembled, flowing to lock around his shoulders, mindful not to jab into his neck. He set to work etching a song out of her, and Jane complied without a second thought, ready to weep from a sort of ecstasy-driven high before he abruptly removed himself, replacing his mouth with his hands. Breathlessly, Jane attempted to break through the barrier and open her eyes.

Not long afterward, his hand paused in its administration of pleasure, gently pushing her thighs away from him while he once more drew away. Breathlessly, Jane cracked her eyes at last, but a hand descended over them.

_'No cheating'_ was drawn onto her hip, and then he hovered near her, positioning her comfortably on her back without removing her makeshift blindfold, and shimmied between her knees, kneeling carefully.

She felt him, then, just shy of entering her, and a sudden fright took a hold of her. _Who the hell was he?_ It was enough to make her open her eyes just as he had leaned over her, smoothly flowing inside of her with one precise motion.

And then her eyes flashed in anger as she hit him with all of her force, shouting shrilly and angrily, "_**LOKI!"**_

Her interjection seemed to break the spell, and Jane snapped awake still clawing at the air. She sat bolt upright and glared around into the dark. Loki sat a few feet away nursing his jaw. She noticed a long angry scratch on his throat, a small bruise forming on his jaw, and a distinct glare in his own eyes.

"Could you maybe explain why in the hell you just did that?!" Jane sibilated.

"I think you know why," he replied quietly. Red flashed across Jane's vision.

"Why? Because you want to play some stupid game of yours? I thought I made it clear I was _not_ a piece on your damn chessboard."

"No." The retort was swift and short, clipped.

"A test, then?" Jane flashed, even more fervent. "A sick, twisted test to see how messed up you can make someone?"

He flinched harder than if she had hit him. Hurt and real anger flitted across his visage. He recoiled from her, and Jane almost felt bad for him; almost. That self-satisfied smirk never appeared, only a sort of grimace. He shifted away from her. Something twisted his features, and she perceived it to be bitterness.

"You wound me," he rejoined at last, and though his voice did not waver or break, Jane felt it by some intuition a forced strength.

"_You_ fancy me," Jane guessed. He cringed somewhat.

"Why?" she inquired. No longer did anger completely fuel her inquiries, but a morbid yet ardent curiosity.

"Must you ask?" he snipped. Jane swallowed.

"Is that why you...why you deceived me? Why you saved my life? Why-"

"Why so many infernal queries?" he interrupted, sounding ruffled and irritated.

"Why so many slights of hand and illusions?" Jane shot back. She and Loki glared at each other, but with no heat put into it, or not really. Jane drew her blanket about herself, feeling naked even though she wasn't.

"When I say no touch-" her voice trembled, but she continued, managing to steady it -"I mean _no_ touching. That means _no contact_, no bloody dreams, no fucking doubles, _nothing_." She sniffled, cleared her throat, and stared at him fiercely. He stared back intently, studying her, his face closed.

A noise outside shut them both up relatively quickly. She didn't protest when he moved closer, weapon drawn and eyes darting around. He might be a bastard, but he would protect her, and for that, at least, she could be grateful and give him her confidence. He reached her and drew her body behind his, and she saw a flash of green in his other hand, flaring softly against his palm.

"Do you trust me?" It came out just below a whisper, but she heard, and distinguished the words.

"Close enough," she mumbled, knowing his sharper ears would pick it up anyway. He made a noise in his throat that almost sounded approving.

Long shadows shifted and flowed just short of the cave entrance, which he had set protections around.

"Are we safe?"

"Possibly, unless-"

There echoed a sound like shattering, and he swore softly, magic curling around them. Jane figured that that had to be a bad sign.

Loki ushered her towards the back of the cave, searching for some other exit. Jane snatched up her pack on the way, and he shouldered his. They found a small opening, and after a brief pause, he pushed her into it, following just after her. Darkness enveloped them.

Jane heard someone conversing to someone else lowly in elvish by the cave mouth, and as soon as they had stumbled around two bends she hadn't known the cave contained, Loki opened his palm, a glowing stone lighting their way.

"A Witchlight," he explained shortly, not meeting her gaze.

"What did they say?" she wanted to know, speaking in a hushed undertone.

Very seriously, he replied, "They search for us."

Jane closed her eyes and swore colorfully.

She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and felt glad for it despite their grievances. Her eyes opened, and she graced Loki with something close to a smile. They began picking their way through the cave, hoping it had an outing. Behind them, sounds of pursuit could be heard. Loki hurried Jane along, helping her when she needed it. After a while, squinting, Jane asked, "Is that light up ahead?"

"I believe it to be so," he remarked, squinting, too.

He slid around her as they crept closer, blade out front. They came upon the opening and peered out. They exited cautiously, snaking a path through the trees parallel to the river. Suddenly all of the woodland noises ceased, and the two of them paused cautiously. Cold rolled in, and frost crept over the ground.

"How-?" Jane whispered breathily. A drawn, determined air came over Loki. "Hide," he told her.

Jane narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh _hell_ _no; _I don't ditch anyone," she snapped. He narrowed his eyes similarly. "There is no room for discussion."

She opened her mouth for a biting remark when she was violently seized from behind. Something sharp tickled her throat, and she swallowed, going very still. Glancing down, she saw blue.

"Surrender," her icy captor spat, "or the woman dies."

Her eyes widened and she met his fearfully. Did her life matter _that_ much to him? Or would he let the Jotun bounty hunter slit her throat?

His eyes narrowed calculatingly, and Jane's heart sank and filled with dread. She screamed more from surprise than fright when he drew back and artfully flicked his wrist, watching a silver blur sail through the air; a moment later, the Frost Giant behind her slumped away, his arms falling limply and his own blade dropping somewhere to the side: the blade had hit home. Jane whirled just in time to see the life fade from him, a bright bloom of blood forming where the dagger had embedded itself in his heart. Without even thinking or realizing why, she scooped up his weapon, and by the time she had straightened up, Loki had retrieved his dagger.

And then they ran.

Jane shook, the killing fresh on her mind but her escape more important to her at that moment. Five minutes hadn't passed before a cry went up behind them. Jane nearly tripped, but Loki pulled her up just in time. The trees trembled violently in their wake, and Jane felt a blast of cold that nearly sent her off of her feet. He hissed encouragements in her ear constantly, holding back branches and helping her climb over any obstructions. They came to a clearing, with rolling hills between them and another stand of trees. "It's so open," she fretted softly, but a glance at him proved that she wasn't just paranoid. "We have to risk it anyway, don't we?" she asked, squaring her shoulders. She surprised him by taking his hand, and then they darted out to run.

They didn't get very far.

An odd sort of spear sailed out and came inches from impaling him. Jane yelped, yanking him away. Very suddenly, they were surrounded by elves and giants alike. Jane held her stolen new weapon in shaky hands, determined. The leader of each group stepped forward. The elf was the first to speak, and that time, Jane miraculously understood him.

"Loki Laufeyson," he called, "You are no longer welcome in our Realm, and as such, we have remanded custody of you to the first claim of inheritance of your traitor blood."

He stepped aside and let the Frost Giant to his right speak, "You will come with us to be duly questioned and judged for your crimes against your people."

Jane saw his jaw clenching and his teeth grinding together so hard that she feared he might injure himself. The pulse point was throbbing incredibly rapidly and noticeably on his temple. He glanced at her, then back around them.

"I suppose I have no choice—but surely you have no reason to withhold her."

Another Jotun laughed humorlessly. "No matter what smooth lies you come up with, she will come with us as well….Surely _you _understand what sort of risk we would be taking, do you not?"

He tried a different tactic.

"She is not involved in my other affairs. She is my hostage."

"Then she must come to stand witness against you," the same Jotun shrugged. If he could have, Loki would have had him murdered by his stare alone. An elf came up and rather viscously snatched away his dagger, handing it by the hilt to Jane, though his gaze stayed suspicious. "Although I am not sure you need be living, since we know you to be guilty."

"You have to keep him alive for the trial," Jane interrupted nervously, "he has the right to face his accuser."

"And is he not?" A female Jotun stepped forward. "We are from the collective of witnesses to his desolation of our lands."

Jane lifted her chin. "But that's hardly fair. Either way, I have a charge to present at court, so you can't kill him. Not just yet."

Mutters and grimaces went around before they finally bound him with shackles and chains, and and some sort of collar. Jane got a guard of four that gathered about her in a tight ring for transport. The elves stayed with them until they reached an archway deep within the wood.

"Here we part."

Jane, curious despite herself, stared up at the runes traversing the structure. "Is that a portal?" she gasped.

"Yes," someone replied brusquely. Swallowing, Jane stepped up onto the dais, hefting both her pack and Loki's and watching them drag him up beside of her. Even his hips were encircled in chains. _'He can't fight or fuck'_, she thought darkly, and almost laughed bitterly. She didn't have long to ponder it before they were underneath the arch and she was yanked forward with a lurch, falling through nothingness and feeling as if she were dunked in cold water.

They resurfaced underneath an identical arch in the middle of a ruined city covered in snow and ice. The temperature dropped considerably, and the lighting shifted...Jotunheim.

The escort of guards led them through the sad streets, where wretches young and old and little barefoot children stood watching with strange pets. Their gazes were accusing and triumphant, and thirsty for retribution. Jane didn't know that they noticed her beside of their prize amongst the blue bodies surrounding her...until a little girl child pointed, and suddenly everyone noticed her. Whispering started. After what seemed too long a time, they reached what once had been the royal palace and traipsed down a flight of stairs to the dungeons. Jane watched helplessly as they shackled Loki to a wall in one of the primitive cells that did not resemble those of Asgard in the slightest. Jane stood in the doorway, wide-eyed, until they pushed her unceremoniously back up the stairs. When she stumbled up into the open, she found that a crowd had gathered. A woman grabbed her roughly by the arm and led her towards a building that still stood intact. She knocked thrice and waited, not sparing Jane a glance.

The door opened and another woman appeared, patterned cloth covering her from head to foot and expressive designs spiraling out over her skin.

"Alfrún. We've someone that needs to stay with you. A witness." Her nose wrinkled as she eyed Jane out of the corner of her eye.

Alfrún stared at Jane long and hard before opening the door wide and letting her inside of her home. It closed faintly behind Jane, who waited for her to point to where she might be staying. Alfrún wordlessly set off town a short corridor and pushed a room door open. Jane set the two packs down, turning to thank her, but the Jotun woman had gone. Jane sat down on a small bed made up with warm fur from a creature she had never before seen and laid down, staring at the ceiling of her new sparse quarters.

An hour later, Alfrún returned. Unlike the others, her gaze seemed less distant and somewhat kind, perhaps even sympathetic.

"Would you like to visit him?" Jane almost dropped her book. "Excuse me?" she nearly squeaked. Alfrún smirked. "Have you not coupled? I see what others cannot. Do you wish to see him?"

"Are you asking if I want a conjugal visit?" Jane spluttered.

Alfrún shrugged. "It matters not to me what you do inside. I simply inquired if you wanted to visit him at all."

Blushing, Jane conceded, taking the warmer clothes from her host, who actually smiled sadly at her. Gently, she said, "It is not a secret that you wish to bear witness merely to save his life; however, I am afraid his execution date has already been set."

Jane's blood chilled and her fingers paused on the fastenings of her heavy cloak. "Execution? What of a trial?"

Alfrún bowed her head. "Jotunheim is not known for its trials or their length when they do occur. You should...say your goodbyes now."

Jane nodded numbly and finished covering herself, wondering if they would kill her, too, or make her watch. Alfrún led her outside and back to the dungeon. Jane's breath clouded around her, and she curled her fingers inside of her gloves. Her boots sent debris flying. Loki lifted his head as they drew near, and Jane saw that the collar from earlier was an iron band with runes inscribed on it, still clapped around his neck, and she figured it curbed his powers. Alfrún opened the door and held it for Jane. She was stoic once more, nodding at her, and the door clanged shut behind her.

Neither Jane nor Loki spoke at first, and then she blurted, "They never planned to have a trial. Actually, I'm pretty sure they already have someone sharpening an axe."

"I know." That surprised her. He grimaced. "I did not wish for you to see it."

Jane knelt beside of him, unconsciously brushing fine strands of hair out of his face. "I'm so sorry," she heard herself say, "You don't deserve that punishment."

He smirked bitterly. "You are perhaps one of the few that think so." He leaned into her touch as she caressed his face, conflicted, worrying her lip.

"Alfrún thinks that we...she mentioned a...conjugal visit."

He said nothing, but continued staring at her, the smirk vanishing. "And?" He whispered quietly. He searched her face. "Why have you come, Jane?"

Jane thought, then said, "I don't know myself. It's not just feeling sorry for you. It's more than that."

"And?" he interrupted sharply before she could say more. "What more? _Pity?_ I do not need that, least of all from you."

"No I..." Jane trailed off uncertainly, bit the inside of her cheek, and then leaned in and kissed him, quickly pulling away and blushing. Tears pricked her eyes, but she leaned to kiss him again, breaking off and stumbling to her feet. She started to turn, but he caught at her wrist. She whirled and nearly glared at him. "But I _hate_ you."

He studied her momentarily. "Not anymore," he murmured. Jane mused on it for almost five minutes, and he stood patiently waiting...And then she pushed him back against the wall violently, kissing him hard enough to bruise. He let her, as if he were a puppet whose strings she held. Her hands knotted in his hair, pulling at it and scratching his scalp, trailing them down the back of his neck as she pulled away and licked along his jawline, nipping at his pulse point. He made an odd purring sound that Jane noted as she reached down, fumbling with the clasps and holdings of his pants until she had freed him. She fondled him gently, massaging his tip and bits. His head curled down into the hollow of her throat, and with his face pressed down into her shoulder, he held her close, gasping when she managed to guide him into her around and underneath her many layers of clothing. His chains rattled, and he turned them so that he had her braced against the stone wall. Panting, knees trembling, she held her cheek over his heart while he thrust in and out of her, shielding her from view from anyone that might come by. His chilly hand found her clit, and Jane whimpered aloud. Tears were falling from her eyes.

He noticed and paused, and the genuine concern shocked Jane.

"Don't stop," she murmured, "Please don't stop."

He hesitated, but rolled his hips again, drawing her even closer and cradling her against his chest, whispering words of comfort and apologies in her ear, while his other hand stroked her hair consolingly. Jane buried her face into his shirt when she unraveled, her cries muffled. They faded into sobs. He continued to hold her even after they were both finished, kissing her hair. Jane peered up at him blearily from beneath her lashes. She swallowed down emotion and reached up to trace his cheekbone. "Tell me how to save you," she begged, "There has to be a way."

His eyes closed regretfully. "There is none. I would be out by now if there were and you know it."

Jane sniffled brokenly. "I'm _not_ giving up. So _find_ _an answer_ and find it _soon_. What about...what about my wish? I could-"

"Keep your wish," he broke in gently.

He pulled free from her, eliciting a last gasp, and put himself away, and then they sat down on the cold floor. Jane leaned her head against his shoulder sleepily. She had almost dozed off when she snapped to attention and sat up. She fished around in her pocket and extricated his dagger and the weapon she had claimed, holding them out to him.

"Can we do..._anything_ with these?" Her tears had begun drying on her cheeks.

"My Jane," he murmured, sweeping her hair behind her ear and wiping away the last remaining tears. "You do not even know what you have done. You gave me more than I could hope for."

Footsteps put them both on high alert, and Jane gripped the dagger tightly, handing him the other weapon. He concealed it with a flash of metal. A cold resolve settled in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes flashed a gray-reddish-black. A prison guard came to the door and opened it. Only one got assigned at once. Jotunheim didn't hold prisoners for very long.

"Your visit has ended," he leered down at them. Jane did her best to glare at him. She caught sight of a set of keys on his belt. He drug her up, and Jane struck out viciously without thinking, bunching her leg muscles underneath herself and punching upwards with her weight behind her thrust. She felt a sickening giving of skin as the dagger-Loki's dagger-sank deeply into the Jotun cage-keeper's heart. He seemed surprised, and she drew in a breath sharply, watching as the life left his eyes. He sagged toward her and she stumbled back into a pair of strong arms that eased the body off of her.

Numbly, she felt Loki take the keys from her trembling hands. She hadn't even realized she had filched them from the guard-no, the _body_. She had just killed a man. A moment later, Loki turned her face up to stare down into it. "We must hurry Jane. Our window of opportunity is limited."

"_I_ killed him," she whispered dazedly. She focused on Loki. "I _killed_ him. I killed _him_. I just..."

He shook her. It was then she noticed that he had gotten his restraints off, and that they lay at his feet with the keys. "No you did _not_. _I_ did. Put your sins on me, Jane. Everyone else does. _I_ did this. Now come on before they notice."

"I-wait," Jane pulled back on him, and he turned impatiently. Her eyes darted over his form. "You can't be seen..."

"_We_ won't be," he assured her, and Jane felt an odd sensation come over her.

"Camouflage," she guessed. "And I suppose we're the only ones that can see us."

The two crept cautiously into the corridor, shutting to door of the cell and making their way to the surface. Jane shivered as soon as the open air hit her, and she felt his arm around her shoulder, moving her so that the wind whipping through the city hit him and not her. Jane pointed in the direction of the house of Alfrún. They at last made it there, and Jane held him back, staring at him. At last, she said, "Don't hurt her. She's been kind to me."

Her stomach knotted nervously, conflicted. Now that he might not die, she felt odd. She had just had a knee-trembler with him against the wall of a prison cell where he had been chained awaiting execution. Where did that leave her? She couldn't blame him that time, entirely.

He nodded, muttered "Duly noted," and hid as she knocked at the door. Alfrún answered, eyes unfathomable as they alighted on Jane.

"How was your-"

Loki stepped forward and touched two fingers to her forehead. She went unconscious immediately, and he caught her, sliding into her house and laying her out on the floor. Jane sidestepped them and closed the door behind her. "Our packs are in that back room."

Loki nodded wordlessly in acknowledgement and set about grabbing anything he found useful. Jane bit her tongue. She didn't approve of the stealing, but had nothing to leave in payment. She put a pillow under the unconscious woman's head and whispered an apology to her that she knew she wouldn't hear.

Soon Loki had a pack of supplies courtesy of Alfrún's home, and Jane had already grabbed their things from the back. "Ready?" she asked him, not looking directly at him. He frowned softly, reaching for, and dropped his arm when she shrank away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw hurt and surprise momentarily surface in his eyes, but it was well hidden in the next second.

"Come, Jane," he instructed, striding towards the back entrance of the dwelling. Ashamed at herself, and reddening, she followed him through and out the back. Loki stopped in the wide, barren back yard, and Jane did the same. He turned, holding out the packs to her, and Jane took them, realizing he meant to transform. He took a minute to gaze at her longingly in a very non-physical contact induced way, and then he fell forward, rippling into his Bandersnatch form. Jane picked the packs up and tied them onto him, hoping she wouldn't fall off this time around.

She reasoned as she clambered into the dip that at least this time the harsh, unforgiving landscape had drifts of snow to cushion her if she did. She tied herself to him with a length of rope she had found looking around in the shed off to the side of the house, and then she leaned down, laying almost flat against his back.

"Situated?" She jumped. Loki had spoken inside of her head.

"Yes." His wings rose, and with one powerful beat, they shot into the air.

Jane fought down a scream and closed her eyes tightly. The wind stung her face, howling around them. His skin felt hot underneath, and Jane, grateful for the warmth, fell sleep without meaning to.

...xxx...

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><p>It was Little Frigga that found her. Darcy swore and stretched out a hand to pet her, finding that she couldn't be mad at her if she tried. Frigga wriggled her hips, tail wagging, and pounced into her lap. Darcy only hoped Thor hadn't followed her. She was <em>not<em> in the mood, not at all. She wondered how she could have kissed him. Not only did she feel guilty because of Jane, she felt guilty because of the entire mess. She had avoided him for nearly two weeks, not going to dinner or any outings. Only that day had she ventured out, and hidden herself in a far corner of the palace.

Darcy, petting her absentmindedly, didn't notice the man who slipped into the hidden garden until he sat down beside of her. "Darcy."

Darcy nearly fell off of the bench.

"Thor," she choked, coloring and shooting to her feet. He motioned for her to sit down. Frigga glowered at her, having been tossed to the ground, and huffed indignantly, turning her back on them. Thor chuckled fondly at her, then quieted.

"You know we must have words," he began lowly. Darcy dropped her head into her hands and groaned. "No."

"Yes," he said firmly, stretching out an arm and gently sitting her down. Darcy frowned, but said nothing.

"You never finished your dance lesson," he said softly, propping his elbows on his knees. Darcy cringed. "About that..."

"Darcy," Thor insisted loudly. He held up his hands. "Please...I must ask you many things-" Darcy groaned again- "such as why you...why you kissed me." He almost stuttered the last bit, and Darcy snuck a glance between her fingers. Thor was staring down intently at his hands. He spoke again, and what came out of his mouth just about made Darcy bite through her own tongue. "Darcy, do you hold...feelings...for me?" His eyes were squinched up oddly.

She helplessly opened and closed her mouth, jumping away from the bench for the second time in under a minute and a half. "I...I have stuff I forgot about, things to do. Maybe I can write you a letter later, or-"

"_Darcy_," Thor persisted. He stood in one fluid movement and caught her by the shoulders. Darcy shut her mouth quickly.

"There is nothing wrong with them, but..." confusion flickered over his features.

"Oh gods, _why_?" She moaned, trying to pull away. She didn't need this talk. She already felt pretty badly about it.

"We don't need this conversation, _okay_? I already feel pretty shitty and damn guilty. You think I wanted to like you...more than I should?"

She balked at his intense gaze. Thor let one eyebrow raise. "You did not answer the question. Your attempts to brush aside what happened-"

"I'm worried about Jane, and I just panicked. I do weird shit when I'm not in my right mind."

He paused, and she added, "Look, it was an accident. Just a random burst of affection. Now let's just find Jane, all right?"

He let his hands drop, but before either of them could say something else, footsteps suddenly rang out, fast approaching. Darcy scooted away from Thor and bent to examine a small Valkyrie statue just before Sif came into view. She felt the warrior woman's eyes boring into her back before she began speaking to Thor in an urgent tone. "Heimdall says that your brother had his powers dampened for quite some time, and that he felt and saw him on Jotunheim. The Warriors Three and I fear that he may be in their custody. What do you wish to do?"

Thor stiffened. Before his banishment and exile on Midgard, he might have rushed there, Mjölnir swinging furiously, to demand him back, but after all that had transpired and changed within him, he had learned to be more thoughtful and careful. He would get him back, or at least try, and he would likely visit, but he would not ride in roaring for a fight. They did not need another war. As for Darcy...their confusing interaction could wait. But something else prompted him to clap Sif on the shoulder: Jane. "Was he alone?"

"If you ask after Jane, Heimdall told me that she is hidden from all sight by some separate enchantment. She could be anywhere."

Thor bowed his head. "We shall see what I can arrange. Regardless of what he has done, we must try to save my brother. And we must continue our search. I doubt he has harmed her."

"You can hope he has not," Sif replied.

Thor did not comment on the soft scoff Sif used, or the cynical edge. He took his hand away, motioning for them to walk together and giving Darcy a last glance. Fandral appeared, then Volstagg and Hogun, and the group drifted off, discussing plans. Darcy watched them covertly, straightening up from where she had been kneeling by a strange flower, and met Little Frigga's eyes, a bit surprised that the pup hadn't followed Thor. "Just you and me, huh?" She got a yip in response, and bent to pick her up. "At least you can't trap me in an unnecessary and awkward conversation," she grumbled. Frigga growled and nipped her finger.

Darcy scowled_. Of course_ the puppy had something to say, too, although she said it a bit differently. Darcy huffed and decided she needed a drink.

...xxx...

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><p>I meant to sit on this chapter until the next one was finished, but after not getting to publish this one with the last one despite its completion, I decided to release it instead...I don't think I'll make singles a regular habit, though, and all of the other chapters should be longer than the one before this (which is admittedly the shortest one and nine pages). I hope you continue to enjoy and that the conversion didn't mess up too much. Tell me if I missed many errors, typos, etc.<p>

-L


	5. No Rest for The Wicked Or The Weary

**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**

Chapter 5: No Rest for The Wicked Or

The Weary

A/N: A long wait, I know. But I think y'all should be happy with both quality and quantity. This wasn't typed in five minutes. It was an absolute labor of love that I sincerly hope readers both new and old enjoy. Classes will be starting for me again, and I wanted to get these out in case it was a while between updates.

Love,

L.

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><p>Chapter 5: No Rest for The Wicked Or<p>

The Weary

_Carry on my wayward son_

_There'll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you cry no more_

_-_Kansas,"Carry On Wayward Son"

* * *

><p>Jane never imagined being caught in a Jotunheim blizzard with a bandersnatch sheltering her by use of its magnificent wings. Well, she never figured bandersnatches were more than a figment of Alice's imagination, or maybe Carroll's, and yet she heard the even breathing of one beside of her. It surprised her that it felt nearly room temperature underneath the appendage (though her thick clothes likely helped that), and wondered why he had felt so warm, there in that obviously near or below zero weather, except that it had something to do with the makeup of the creature. Either way, the <em>frumious<em> _Bandersnatch_ had killed some sort of frost creature that had chased them, and that had occurred just as the blizzard whipped up around them, forcing them to bear up against the storm by the lee side of the base of a rock formation.

"Comfortable, Jane?" She jumped. Would she _ever_ get used to his speaking in her head when he transformed? She felt him shift to curl more securely around her.

"I'm fine, Loki," she replied, huddling against his flank and hugging herself. "It's not even chilly under here. Thank you. I'd probably have frozen to death on my own." She tilted her head back into his side. "How are you?"

She felt his surprise in her mind as if she could see it written in an expression of his. "I am well, considering," he answered dryly, and he added, "and it seems I owe you a drink. Perhaps I should get chained to a wall more often?"

There was no mistaking what hid behind the humor in his voice: he was a flirt even when he shifted out of his skin. Jane smacked herself on the forehead. She knew she would regret what happened in the prison as soon as she had ensured his escape because she knew, somehow, even dead, he would never let it go; surely he would haunt her dreams.

"Not even in your dreams," Jane retorted, rolling her eyes. In the next second, the memory began playing out the aforementioned scene in detail in Jane's mind unbidden, and she knew he had planted it, down to how she had felt. Even then she felt as if his finger still lingered over her clit, and she squeezed both her eyes and her legs together tightly.

"My dreams are quite lively sometimes...but my _memories_...those are _priceless_, my dear Lady."

"You're a right old bastard sometimes," Jane griped in frustration. He growled bitterly, "If only I could be so lucky. Unfortunately, my family is rather..._unsavory_."

"Explain," she choked, feeling as though he were still inside of her, pressing her against the wall. He shifted, and the ghost actions faded as he focused, withdrawing the memory-weaving. Jane whacked his side in what she was sure was a rather useless attempt at revenge with the hide he wore at the moment. He stayed silent for many long moments, and then said softly," I do not know the details. The letter Frigga left for me was very vague."

"Did she name anyone?" Jane asked curiously. "Or leave any instructions?"

"No," he replied sullenly, and Jane decided not to ask many more questions. She sat back with a sigh, surprised when she was not again plagued by the dredged up memory of the prison. "Through playing?" The grumble didn't come out quite as cross as she had intended it. She received no answer at first. Finally, as she drifted off to sleep, she heard a faint reply.

"Never."

…xxx...

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><p>The storm had settled when she awoke. Faint light filtered in through the membrane of Loki's wing. The fine bones arched high into the air above her head. His breathing was gentle and slow with sleep. Jane sat up carefully and reached out to touch the wing gingerly, tracing the membranous surface in fascination. She didn't notice the rumbling purr right off; it was almost indiscernible, but rose in volume steadily the longer she caressed the skin beneath her fingertips.<p>

Startled, she pulled her touch away. The sound faded. Jane sat rather confusedly staring at her hand. Why had she done that? How could her mind have forgotten that the creature could turn back into a man, a man she had clear issues with? She didn't have long to ponder. Suddenly the wing moved-no, the entire _beast_ moved, shaking off its covering of snow. Quite suddenly, Jane had a very large emerald green eye holding her in its gaze, trained on her so steadily that she almost balked despite knowing no harm would come to her. The great face bent down, all delicate lofty, arching cheekbones, just as when he had his usual form, and very gently nuzzled her side, breath huffing over her, touching her face tenderly. Blinking dazedly, Jane stood still as Loki rested his head against her. The movements had been calculated-Jane was much smaller and breakable than a Bandersnatch, and they both knew it.

A noise startled them. Loki's head snapped up, and Jane turned, stumbling backward against the Bandersnatch. A small blue boy stared, wide-eyed, a sleigh piled with game behind him attached to the leads on the same curious pets she had noted in the city. An old man sat at the head, a beard sprouting from his blue face and his vermilion eyes slightly clouded; he was probably half-blind.

"They're traders taking the family haul in to the city." Loki's quiet, informative statement caught Jane off guard. He growled low in his throat, and the boy, fearful, cried out to the old man.

"Don't hurt them," Jane mumbled.

"What do you take me for?" Loki actually sounded slightly offended. "I will only do that if they try to hurt _us_."

The two traders eyed them warily. Jane backed around Loki with their packs, hoisting herself up onto his back once more. His wings spread wide, and he took off. Jane watched the two Jotun travelers disappear far below them, hugging the wide back close.

"Where are we going?" she inquired.

"There should be another portal somewhere close by," he said, "I can feel it. Can you not?"

Jane shook her head, adding, "No...how-"

"How do you think?" He sounded short with her for once. Jane decided not to question Loki, and instead put her efforts into holding on since she hadn't got to tie herself down. It was easier to do, though, after she had started getting used to it.

Soon enough, they came across the other arch, standing alone amongst a sea of gray and white and dim blue. Loki plummeted, and Jane exclaimed using a few choice words, not comfortable until he landed, where she quickly scrabbled off and waited to hand him his pack. He withdrew back into his own form with a shimmer and ripple of green energy. He took the pack wordlessly, but paused, staring intently at Jane, who shifted uneasily. What he said surprised her. "I will release you."

Jane started and cocked her head to the side. She swallowed, the word she uttered faint. "When?"

Loki reached out and touched her cheek lightly, and she surprised them both by not flinching away from the contact.

"Whenever I can let you go."

Jane bit her lip and tried not to get too angry. "And what if you can't?" Some of the bite still made its way into the question. His eyes flashed and his hand dropped.

"Promise me," Jane insisted, "that you won't try and keep me with you."

An odd sort of bitter, twisted smile curved his lips upward. His head tilted sideways. "Rather foolish, to trust my word, is it not?"

Jane narrowed her eyes. Taking a chance, she replied, "If you love me, you will." She felt queasy as soon as the words left her mouth. He froze from head to toe, his features contorting and then smoothing over completely into a mask of unreadable calm. His hands flashed out to grab her and he brought her to him, locking his mouth onto hers, his tongue tracing her lips. He held her close, one hand cradling her head, the other snaked around her. Shocked, Jane went limp, her mouth unmoving. He pulled back and stared at her from underneath his lashes. Pain swam in the depths of his stare, and hints of self-loathing, self-mockery, and sorrow. All of it turned into the vicious defensive cruelty she was familiar with. "And _why_," he murmured, bending to kiss her throat, "might I love _you_? You simpering wad of insecurity and neediness? No. You're just a human, Jane. And not much of one, aside from being _weak_."

He drew her into another long kiss just as she struggled to grace him with her trademark frenzy attack. He caught her wrists, twisting them gently away, and trailed a hand down her back. Angry tears sprang into the corners of her eyes and she bit his bottom lip in a very non-loving, non-friendly, get-the-hell-off-me sort of way. He cut the kiss short and instead just held her. Jane trembled with fury. She knew him, which meant she knew he didn't mean it, or at least not exactly the way it sounded. He _did_ have feelings for her, and he deflected violently when he felt vulnerable. Only half of her realized that, though. The other half felt a rush of new hurt and hatred, and righteous indignation, wanted to be just as cruel; moreover, the enlightened half couldn't stop her other half from crying frustratedly, or hissing into his ear as her eyes glinted, "I _knew_ I hated you, and I should have let them kill you when I had the chance to be rid of you. You _deserve_ what they want to do to you, and you deserve to die _alone_."

He went rigid almost instantly. He pushed her away and turned his back on her for a full minute before he faced her again. Jane saw the most imperceptible slump in his shoulders, and the look in his eyes _then_...And in the silence that settled between them, staring into his burning eyes, she understood the many ways a person could die but still live. She stepped forward, helpless, watching a wounded man watch her. "That _is _what you want, then, is it? To have me take you back to your precious Thor and your passionless love? He would make you weak!"

"And what do you make me?" Jane snapped. "Just because he wasn't perfect doesn't mean I didn't love him!"

Loki grabbed her again, but by the arms. He lost some of his fervency and instead sounded desperate. "Then tell me why you cannot love _me_, if it is so easy to love _Thor_."

Jane held his gaze. "Because he gives instead of always _taking_; because he is _honest_ with me; he doesn't _try_ to deceive me and he _always asks_."

Loki looked at her, really looked at her, and took his hands off of her. "You don't know how to stop, do you?" She whispered.

"You already know the answer to that."

Jane swallowed emotion and hugged herself. Neither one of them could look at each other for a long while. Jane wiped away half-frozen tears, shivering.

"Come on, unless you want to freeze to death," Loki snapped at her. She let her eyes drift upward onto him from the snow to her left.

"Well, you're no use to me dead," he said casually in answer to her unspoken question.

She marched past him and stood just shy of the arch.

"You're incorrigible," she sighed tiredly, defeated. Fingers twined with hers, and, glancing downward, she saw that Loki had taken her hand in his. Before she could curse at him, he stepped through the portal, taking her with him, and Jane fell through to the other side, only getting a brief moment to wonder where exactly it might be.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>While Thor held a meeting with his council, Darcy was sitting in a garden playing with Little Frigga when a portal opened up beside of her. It startled her so much that she nearly fell leaping off of and away from the bench on which she had been sitting. The puppy gave a yip and sprang up curiously despite her protests. A woman had stepped through with a young man in his teens. Her eyes-which Darcy noted were brown and ringed-darted about quickly, landing on her and her small companion. The newcomer had long blonde hair pulled to the side in a ponytail with a blue ribbon, and wore boots, elbow-length cornflower blue gloves, a smart blue dress, and a silvery-gray cloak. The teen was tall and pale, with dark hair and startling electric blue eyes, and an innocent face. His cloak was blue, too, but darker and without hints of silver, and his clothes were plainer, though just as nice. He, too, stared at Darcy, his gaze eerily intense.<p>

The woman lifted one pale eyebrow, tugging a glove off and extending her hand. Darcy blinked at it momentarily, then awkwardly took it when she realized it was an offer for help. She accepted, and got pulled to her feet. Looking down at the dainty hand as she released it, she saw how fair it was. Of course, her mouth had, as usual, sped ahead of the rest of her and her thought process as she blurted, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Who the fuck are _you_?" the woman retorted.

She seemed amused by the interaction while the teen seemed taken aback by it.

"Mordred," he supplied in a quiet voice. "And you are Darcy Lewis, and this is Naryu." Darcy blushed crimson. Was this someone she was supposed to know? She wracked her brain for any information whatsoever. Coming up empty, she hoped she didn't look as clueless as she felt. She was pretty sure just anyone wasn't allowed to make portals directly into Asgard unless they knew one of the Aesir or were jonesing for a world of pain.

"Do you know where Thor might be found?" The woman-Naryu-asked politely, still seemingly amused.

"He's in a meeting with his council," Darcy rejoined, still somewhat flustered. "I don't know about interrupting it-"

"He'll want to see me," Naryu said knowingly, serious, the amused spark gone. She and Mordred began walking off with Frigga trailing after them playfully. Darcy got up and followed them. The puppy trotting in front of her darted to the head of the party, jumping up at Naryu.

Naryu stopped. She stared down at the wriggling, excited little creature.

"What's her name?"

Darcy paused before answering. "Frigga."

"Mother must be amused," Naryu remarked. Darcy stiffened. Mother? So this was a daughter of hers. Didn't she know? How would she tell her that her mother was dead?

Naryu picked Little Frigga up and continued on to her destination. She seemed to know her way around very well, and Darcy grew more filled with dread. She had to have lived there and grown up there. That was the only explanation. They reached the council room and Naryu opened it and stepped inside without knocking. Mordred followed in her wake. Darcy, shocked, hovered at the threshold peeking in, apprehensive.

The discussion was so heated, with everyone speaking, and Thor didn't see her at first: no one did. But Darcy knew when he did. He glanced upward, and his eyes widened. He immediately broke off mid-sentence and stared at her in silence. "Sister." He sounded disbelieving. Naryu rushed forward the last few steps as everyone looked around and literally threw herself at Thor. He was quick to wrap her in an embrace and lift her up. Darcy wondered how she still managed to look so dignified as she did so and figured it was an Aesir thing.

Thor lowered her to the floor and held her out from him.

"I see you are well. How have your travels treated you?"

"Well," she replied, smiling. Her eyes darted about excitedly as she looked for someone. The expectancy coloring her features gave Darcy new curiosity. Who would she search for so? The next words spoken answered her questions and made her heart plummet into her stomach.

"Where are Mother and Loki? I must see them. We have much to discuss."

A heavy silence settled over the room, and a look of such sadness came over Thor that no one had to say anything. A half-strangled sob echoed. "Which one of them?" Naryu quavered, though it was audible throughout the room, "Which one of them has left us?" Her head turned to the side, and then she pulled away from him shakily, turning the rest of her body around so she could stare each person in the face. Tears shone in her eyes. "Both?" she whispered brokenly. Mordred stood helplessly for a moment, and then he tried to put an arm around her.

"No," Thor replied, swallowing. "Only Mother. Loki yet lives. For now, at least."

Naryu whirled. "What did he do _now_?" Her voice shook dangerously. "If he got her killed with a _stupid prank_ I swear I'll wring his neck myself!"

"No, it was not his doing," Thor responded.

"Then _how?" _It came out as a harsh bark. "_Who?_ Where is he? I leave for one bloody year, which is like what, a week to your kind, and then _this_?"

Thor began explaining hesitantly. He sighed, pausing, and continued, "...During the attack, many Asgardians were killed, including Mother."

"And?" Naryu snarled tensely.

"As you know, she was a fighter. A fierce swordsman that never backed down. She died protecting Jane." He swallowed. "I managed to strike him with my lightening, and burn half of his face, but Malekith and Algrim escaped."

Naryu had stilled. "She suggested that I go, that I take Mordred with me, that there was nothing I could do around here then, and I...I _listened_ to her. She said her attendants would be enough. But they weren't, were they?"

"Actually, dear lady, they were salvaged. Weeping, bloody, ragged- but alive." Fandral had interrupted. The glance she gave him was withering and could have quelled anyone. Darcy just felt glad he bore the brunt of it.

"You impotent, _incompetent_ buffoons!" she screeched. "She was your _Queen, _your _Lady_, your _MOTHER..._my mother."

Another sob escaped her, and Darcy noticed that some of the furniture had begun to tremble at the outburst, surrounded in a soft, silvery-blue haze. "And you lost her. You _lost_ her and there's _no one else_ like her, no one to take her place. She held everyone together. This family, _nations."_

Just as she had exploded with emotion, the furniture ceased its trembling and a strange, cold, composed calm came over her. She drew herself upright to her fullest and exhaled, saying almost serenely, "Now tell me, dear heart, where our beloved brother is?"

Thor glided towards her and clapped his large hand over her small shoulder.

"His custody has been remanded to Jotunheim."

Naryu straightened even more if possible, and spat venomously, "What _else_ did you let happen?"

Thor cleared his throat uncomfortably. "He has Jane, my-"

"His consort," Sif inserted. Thor gave her a sharp glance. The warrior woman lifted her chin defiantly. "Is she not?" she asked softly.

Naryu whistled. "Cue the cleanup crew of Me, Myself, and I," she remarked bitterly.

Darcy shifted uncomfortably, forgotten by the door. She watched as Naryu stormed past her and away from the room, Mordred keeping pace with her. She turned just in time to see Thor nod his head in the same direction. "Follow her, one of you."

Sif detached herself from the others and started to do so. Thor held her back and whispered something to her. Her eyes flashed and hardened, but she nodded and gave him a half-bow, murmuring what sounded like a low apology.

And then she, too, was gone.

Little Frigga let off a soulful howl.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Gasping, tensed, and the tiniest amount of scared, Jane kept her eyes tightly shut even when nothing happened. She opened them hesitantly. A vibrant blue sky and tranquil sunlight, sparkling waters and green pastures, demure valleys, and rolling hills; she took it all in and felt an amazing sense of peace. Only then did she realize that Loki still had a hold on her hand. She let her eyes trail downward. The pad of his thumb rested just above her wrist.<p>

"This...is Vanaheim. The kingdom Frigga came from before her marriage to Odin, where she dwelt before, and her birthplace."

Obviously it held special meaning. He sounded very solemn, and strained, but also sort of reverent, wistful, nostalgic, and full of unresolved longing. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "She brought me here in my youth with Naryu while Fa-Odin and Thor remained behind. We spent many happy days here."

Jane felt very sorry and kind of mortified. He sounded a touch strangled. The emotions attached to the place could only be genuine, and arriving had dredged them up with old memories. Then another thought hit her. There had been another name thrown into the mix that she had not failed to notice. "Wait, she and who?"

A flicker of something stole over his features as he stared down at her sidelong.

"The Queen's ward, raised as our sister."

"You were close," Jane surmised. He smiled briefly, genuinely, and nodded once, and Jane saw that much of the usual bitterness had left him for the moment. "Yes," he whispered. "I always had her."

"Where is she now?" Jane asked gently. Still, he held her hand, his thumb making small circles where it rested. His face darkened a bit. "She does not know that Mo-Frigga is dead."

Jane sucked in a breath and wished she hadn't asked. She also wished latently that she hadn't been so harsh with him as she had been only minutes before in Jotunheim. She fought down her own pride and forced her anger to reside, gently loosening his hold and turning in to him to give him a -if somewhat stiff and awkward-sincere hug. He straightened in surprise and very carefully returned the gesture. "You're not alone now," she mumbled, biting her lip. She meant it, but it would take all of her patience. Jane knew she couldn't continuously be unkind to him, though: it just was _not_ a part of her nature. Even if he had done some terrible things. If she wasn't kind, who would be? It wasn't as if he had anyone else at the moment.

She resisted the urge to flinch when he rested his chin on the crown of head, kissing her hair. He held his hands cautiously by her shoulder blades, and gradually, Jane relaxed. It was when she tipped her head up to peek at him that he swooped in to kiss her. Typical Loki.

It was over before she could protest, quick and chaste, and apologetic. It said everything he didn't know how, couldn't. Her lips parted, but she closed them and decided not to mention it. She sighed and stepped away. His arms dropped from her.

Jane nibbled on the inside of her cheek but searched for the source of a faint mew that caught her attention. She tilted her head from side to side, eyebrow raised and expression questioning. Loki, too, seemed to have heard, and searched with her. He pointed, and together, she a pace behind him just in case, they advanced toward the lush shrubbery to their left. Before they even reached it, an undersized forest cat darted out and stood defensively, hissing at them, tail a waving warning flag and whiskers akimbo-fashion.

"Is it a normal cat?" Jane posed lightly. Loki chuckled bitterly.

"Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

He gave her a rather amused expression. "Have you never owned a cat, Jane Foster?"

Jane smirked, catching on to what he meant. "Haven't had the pleasure. Why?"

The cat spat at them, ears flattened and lips drawn back in a snarl. "Because they are notoriously hard to tame, harder than bandersnatches or dragons at times."

"You lie," Jane said disbelievingly.

Loki quirked an eyebrow at her. "Not this time, I am afraid."

Just then, it lunged at them, caterwauling furiously. Loki bent and caught it dexterously, holding it out and away as claws swiped. With his other hand a glowing green, he touched it lightly on the nose. It went limp, dazed. He spoke to it quickly in some strange tongue, murmuring and growling in a low, silky, rumble, and then the cat calmed. It curled into his wrist, started purring. Carefully, he moved so that he held it out to Jane. It sniffed her and drug purple eyes over her from top to bottom. Loki told it something else, and then it reached for Jane in a friendly manner.

"Are you always this good with animals?" She knew she must seem terribly awed. Perhaps she had been a bit.

Loki snorted. "Apparently. Do you not hear gossip when you research?"

It took Jane a moment to get his gist, and then she colored horribly.

"I assure you, my Lady, I have never fucked a horse or a goat, or whatever else they say...mostly only you, in fact."

Jane's blush deepened, and again, unbidden, and this time without Loki's assistance, she felt the ghost movements of him, his body alive within and against hers, and then the dream he had given her rode in on the coattails of the physical memory.

"Good to know, I think," she choked embarrassedly.

He drew her close and held the cat between them. It glanced upward at them both and began cuddling against them. "He is yours to name."

Jane closed her eyes to think. "Silas," she whispered at last. "It means 'Of the forest.'"

The newly named Silas leaned his head against her breast and purred. Looking down, she didn't notice Loki leaning until he stole his third kiss, running his tongue over her lips. The temptation to bite him again arose and fell. After all, the kinky bastard might be hinky enough to like it. Jane took a small step back before he could attempt another and glared at a rock by her foot. "Where do we go from here?"

Silas clambered out of her arms and onto her shoulder, draping himself around her neck.

"He better not have ticks or flees," she muttered.

"He might," Loki quipped, "but I will be more than happy to search you later, just to make sure."

Jane leveled a warning scowl at him. He shrugged and continued, "In answer to your question, there should be a settlement near here. There we should be able to acquire horses and ride to the Capitol."

"Sounds legit." She readjusted her pack, mindful of their new companion, and started walking.

"I suppose you're trying to avoid drawing attention to us by not flying us there?"

"You assume correctly," he replied. They trudged onward in silence for some time. Eventually, they crested a rise and found themselves looking down on a small town.

"This is...quaint," Jane told him. It had a sort of charm to it, much different from Alfheim; no high rises or skyscrapers, but buildings that still soared elegantly alongside squat and cozy little houses and broad establishments. There was, of course, a longhouse, too, but many things were situated alongside and around it. She saw Loki smile softly. Well, at least they weren't fighting (again) for the moment. And for the moment she had grudgingly forgiven him, knowing that even if he didn't love her, he had not meant to be so cruel, apologizing in his own way.

Their pace quickened, and soon they stood across from a small inn.

"Does that say _'Same As It Never Was'_? Jane inquired, squinting up at the sign. Loki glanced at her with his surprise not hidden. "Roughly. When did you learn to-"

"I've been practicing," Jane cut in just a touch smugly. A satisfied smirk superseded his surprise. "That's my Jane."

Jane scoffed. "I didn't do it for you, I assure you."

"Oh, I know," he responded airily, to which she rolled her eyes in consternation. Silas pressed his cheek to her neck and purred.

They entered the building and Loki went to the counter, speaking in hushed tones with the attendant. Jane crept up and stood a little behind him. Once again, to her surprise and amazement, she understood.

"I am sorry, sir, but the only available room has but one bed. The Day of Colors is in four and a half days' time and many have begun traveling to the Capitol, which has but a town between here and there. You must understand that this is a last stop for that many migrating in this direction. You are lucky to have a room at all here. I fear you will find not much difference at the other inns here, and I offer the same services for a lower cost."

Jane heard Loki curse under his breath, then bring out a few coins to drop into the owner's hands. An old woman came out from the back, wiping her hands on her apron, and led them up a flight of stairs to their lodgings. She produced a key and opened the door for them, handing the key to Jane, who took it and put it in her pocket. She left them to their own devices soon afterward, and Jane threw her pack down, inspecting the room: A plush rug covered most of the floor; there sat a double wardrobe against one wall, and a large, queen-sized bed took up the entire center of the room, a four-poster with privacy hangings; nice paintings adorned the walls, and a small bookshelf and a writing desk occupied corners opposite of each other. A door led off, likely to a bathroom. Silas leapt from her and slunk underneath the bed.

"You of course may bathe and do whatever necessary to make yourself comfortable," she heard Loki tell her. She nodded mutely, eyeing him. He ran a hand through his hair. Noticing her stare after a moment, he remarked, half-amused, "Did no one ever tell you how very improper staring is, Jane?"

Jane scoffed softly, "Pot meet kettle."

At that, he chuckled, and set his pack on a side table, rummaging around for something. "I advise you start before I become impatient and go in myself. I would hate to interrupt-"

"You better not," Jane chided, grabbing up her pack again, "or you will pay _dearly_."

Of course, being himself, he stepped forward boldly and proclaimed, "_Ooh_, I do so like the sound of _that_. Tell me, how would you punish me?"

Jane waggled an admonishing finger at him. "_Not_ the way you're insinuating."

He backed her up right to the closed bathroom door, arms at either side of her on the doorframe, looking at her from underneath his long lashes.

"And what way could I mean?" He started to lean in for yet another kiss, but, thinking quickly, Jane ducked down and swung the door open, slipping inside and closing it firmly behind her. "You know exactly what I mean, you scoundrel!"

He laughed lightly from the other side, but moved away after a moment. Jane locked the door and drug a little table of perfumes and oils directly in front of it, even if she did deem it useless since she was pretty sure he could get in anyway if he chose to do so.

One month with Loki was an emotional roller coaster ride akin to a year, all ups and downs and hot and cold moments; one moment he could be so infuriating, the next a vulnerable mess, and in yet another a shameless flirt with a tongue made to spin lies and serve out lusty comments. You couldn't do anything with him. He almost grew on you, Jane mused, although sometimes he felt more like a tumor.

Pawing came from the other side of the door accompanied by a long scratch and a plaintive wail, all of which interrupted her pondering. Silas. She had forgotten about him. She crept to the door and cracked it just enough to let the creature inside. Cats could be creepy sometimes, but he couldn't be nearly as bad as his co-owner. She grabbed a small basin and drew water into it, then glanced down at him. He sat by her feet curiously. Perhaps she should let Loki bathe him? But to her surprise, the cat leapt up onto the counter and daintily stepped into the water, purring. Well. That was easy.

She got one of the soaps and sniffed. It smelled like lavender and sweet pea. She scrubbed a small bath brush over it to get it lathered and then began gently massaging it through Silas' fur. To her relief, she neither saw nor felt any flees or ticks and the creature seemed to enjoy being cleaned by someone else. When she was satisfied with his state of cleanliness, she rinsed him off and took him out, fluffing his fur and drying him. Silas curled up and tucked his head beneath his paws for a nap.

Jane took a relaxing bath of her own, and carefully stepped over Silas, opening the door. Loki was nowhere in sight, the room empty when she reentered it. She shrugged it off and pulled the covers of the bed back, snuggling into it. Ten minutes later, he returned, unlocking the door with a flare of green energy.

"Where were you?"

He arched one eyebrow sassily. "And you suddenly care so much? Do not ask if you do not want to know."

Jane threw a pillow at him that he caught in one dexterous flick of his wrist.

"Temper, temper," he tsked.

"I'll _show_ you a _temper_," Jane mumbled. Changing the subject, she gestured toward the bathroom. "Our cat likes water. Oh, and don't step on him. He's napping in the bathroom."

Loki smirked teasingly, and his eyes glimmered. "Why Jane. How dare you let another male watch you bathe."

Jane colored despite herself and made a face. "Unlike you, he doesn't want to jump my bones and he isn't a shape-shifting pervert."

Loki scoffed in mock indignation. "You question my honor?"

"I question your everything," Jane retorted. She shifted away from the center of the large bed and glared warningly. "No border crossing."

He sashayed across the room to the bathroom, and she heard that insufferable grin in his voice as he said, "Too little, too late. I am unsure of how many we have left."

The door clicked closed and Jane watched it until he emerged, his hair sleek and wet and wearing casual clothes. Silas padded out groggily and shook, mostly dry, going over to the bed and jumping up beside of Jane, who moved over for him and pushed herself into a sitting position. Loki sat down on the opposite side, as far away from Jane as possible, and cradled his head in his hands, elbows to knees and shoulders slumped. He seemed so lonely then, and fragile, like a baby bird fallen out of a nest, and Jane got a glimpse, perhaps, of something she thought he hoped for, amongst all of his many charades-to be accepted and embraced unconditionally, to be comforted by someone, if only for a moment, and in her mind there rebounded images and echoed his fervent request from the prison when she had killed someone without meaning to:

_"_I_ killed him," she whispered dazedly. She focused on Loki. "I _killed_ him. I killed _him_. I just..."_

_He shook her. It was then she noticed that he had gotten his restraints off, and that they lay at his feet with the keys. "No you did _not_. _I_ did. Put your sins on me, Jane. Everyone else does. _I_ did this. Now come on before they notice."_

How far would he go to keep someone he cared about from suffering his fate? A rush of confused, muddled emotions washed over her. He was so confounding. His actions didn't ever match his words, it seemed.

"You're a mess." She hadn't meant to utter it aloud. He twisted around and stared at her fiercely. "What did you say?"

"I just meant that...well, you're sort of falling apart."

"I am _not_."

"Ever since I've met you, you're one confusing flurry."

That seemed to set something off in him.

"Do _not_ mock me. _Do not_ mock a pain that _you_ have not endured."

The outburst stunned Jane a little. Where had his playfulness gone? Or had that been a cover for how Vanaheim made him feel, for how she did?

"I'm not mocking you," she replied gently, startling herself. She gingerly stretched out a hand and let her fingertips trail over his cheek. He flinched as if he expected her to strike him, but hesitantly accepted the touch. Jane was sure she seemed confusing, too, but nothing she did was an act. Her conflicted feelings and their ups and downs had her as much at odds with herself as with Loki, and vice versa, she ventured. He had hurt her thoughtlessly before, but he had obviously not meant to; and though that neither made it any better nor redeemed him, it made her understand, and that, coupled with everything genuinely nice, caring, or partially good he had done invoked an openness in her, a wary half-trusting caring.

Damn her foolish spirit.

He tilted his head and kissed the inside of her wrist carefully. Jane had to fight down her instinct to yank it out of his reach. He twisted around the rest of the way and brought her into a hug. Jane tensed, but when he made no other move, relaxed. All he needed was comfort, and she need not worry about anything else. He let her go and dropped his gaze. "Please, let me hold you."

Jane had to wonder if it, too, were an act, but dismissed the thought. The pain saturating him couldn't have been faked: it was too real. So she acquiesced, and stared at the long, trailing hangings of the four-poster. Silas meowed at her and snuggled against her abdomen.

Between a wild-cat and a wildcard, she fell asleep.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>There wasn't a damn thing Thor could do with his sister, especially when she was on the rampage.<p>

"_Jotunheim? _Fucking _Jotunheim_-by the Nine, who let that happen? Who do they think they are?!"

He watched as she paced about impatiently, clearly not wanting to wait for her diplomatic escort into the other upper-though not high (this was a clearly made political distinction) - kingdom. Of any province, territory, kingdom, or principality, it had rivalries with just about everyone. She spun around and glared at nothing in particular as she had at intervals in between bouts of indignant ranting for the past hour and a half. Perhaps he should make her see reason?

"Naryu-"

"Don't even," she snapped. She shot him a dirty look that softened into resigned frustration. "Forgive my sharpness with you."

Naryu got across the room to him in three swift strides, brought him into a brief but full embrace, kissed his cheek, and then twirled, striding briskly out of the room. Mordred cast Thor a neutral glance, detaching himself from the wall where he had observed her coolly.

"Take care of her," Thor said firmly.

"I will," Mordred assured him, both confident and composed. He flitted out after her. Thor sighed heavily and sat down at the head of the council table, regarding the then empty chamber somberly. If he couldn't hold himself or his family together, what hope had he as king?

Someone at the still open door cleared their throat. Thor raised his head and leveled a countenance full of doubt and exhaustion towards the source of the sound. Darcy stood there, half-apologetic and half-anxious. She opened and closed her mouth several times, cleared her throat three, and then ended up throwing her hands up in defeat and turning to leave. Thor stood up abruptly, nearly sending his chair flying. "Wait."

Darcy froze. Thor approached her, pausing a foot away. "Darcy Lewis, I need your honesty."

Darcy faced him slowly. For once, she cast her eyes downward and spoke in a terribly formal and completely out of character manner. "My lord would not like my answers."

She knew that if she unleashed the magnificent wave that made up her ruthless honesty, Thor as he was at that moment might not be able to take it, and there was absolutely no taking it well. She was brutal and brash and blunt, but for the first time in her life, she remained silent when someone asked how she saw it. What would "telling it like it is" do to Thor? It didn't take a genius to see that his brother had daddy issues and his sister sort of held everyone together and lost it when she thought someone had messed with her own, her extraordinary temper erupting; it took someone who got to see more because they got left behind to realize that Thor hurt just as deeply, took things just as badly, even if he let his bravado and prowess shield him. His ability to not get shitfaced and his courageous battle attitude (and bloodlust) were infamous before he began changing. And perhaps it was witnessing that mask crumble that keyed Darcy in on his being just a teddy bear, and instead of breaking like his brother, he got torn asunder; but instead of taking it out on others, he kept it within himself. He looked to her like the loneliest, burning man in all the realms.

It made her heart hurt.

What could she say to him? What could she use to comfort him? How could she possibly offer anything that resembled strength? So Darcy Lewis made a decision. Darcy Lewis decided to lie through her teeth and hoped he wouldn't notice (much). At present, she dodged the request. "We never finished that dance lesson," she managed to choke out with relative collection.

She could tell it took him by surprise. He seemed at a loss, and then she felt incredibly stupid. Of all the idiotic things she could blurt out, she had to bring _that_ up? Her lips tingled inconveniently as if remembering his. She cursed herself mentally, feeling heat flood her face. She had to get away before she screwed up more. Her heart practically slammed against her ribcage when he actually took those last few steps and took her up into her dancing posture. She licked her lips nervously as he drew her patiently into the step, and this time she didn't step on his feet once.

"Holy hell. I think I actually moved up to two left feet," she joked. She got rewarded by a rumbling chuckle by her ear, her cheek resting on Thor's broad shoulder.

"There's your tongue. I see it still works."

Darcy felt her face begin to tinge magenta.

"Not the way it's supposed to," she muttered. He chuckled again and held her closer. After a minute, he slowed a bit, thoughtful. "Do you know that you have grown dearer to me since you came, Darcy?"

Darcy swallowed. If only she didn't have those damn _feelings_; it made her wish he didn't mean merely friendship. If she were honest with herself the way she layered it on thick with everyone else, she knew she sort of had this _thing_ that had grown from a stupid crush, sprouting into something she barely recognized. Of course she didn't _love_ him; that would be silly. But still. It sort of happened to be intense.

If only it lacked the complexity it did, what with his family in disarray and Jane gone, and his duties. Even if it got pared down, would there be anything left of him for her? She shook her head, slightly angry with herself. She should focus on the dance and the movement of her body, and not those thoughts or his breathing, so very close and measured. Fuck it all, what had happened to the focus? Apparently it lacked a corporeal form. Grunting frustratedly, she didn't notice his pause until he tipped her chin up and stared down into her eyes, saying her name concernedly. That made her feel worse since it only gave him another worry.

"Darcy, are you well?"

Thor squinted uncertainly. Why did she look that way? It was strange to him, especially after their many varying encounters. She seemed more closed off from him and anxious, shyer than was normal. Something hid in her eyes, something he wanted to fish out and examine. It puzzled him to an extent. He knew she cared for him deeply, but sensed some indescribable shift, one that had made her kiss him. He hadn't really processed the fact until then. Darcy had kissed him, and not on his cheek as his sister had. She had kissed him the way...the way Jane had. Except not. Hers had a...a spark of sorts. This puzzled him further. He realized that he had been staring intensely while he mused those things, and that her eyes had become as round as saucers.

Her lips parted, drawing his attention, and he saw her tongue dart out nervously, a flash of pink on plump flesh, and this awoke another strange, and again puzzling, feeling. What was it she invoked in him? It sent a keen foreign tune through his mind, because not only did it differ from how he felt about Jane, it didn't compare to anything he felt about anyone else. It stayed peculiar and increased in peculiarity. His eyes met hers, her confused, intent, guarded expression, then back down to her mouth as she drew in a sharp breath.

She blinked and shook her head, moving away from him, and he felt an odd sense of loss of something he hadn't known had appeared.

"It's almost time for lunch. We should go."

He felt himself nod numbly, and start to step forward when he felt her hand on his chest through his tunic, holding him back.

"Thor?" She sounded both small and strangled.

"I need help...could you...nothing."

He caught her elbow and brought her back to him. "I cannot help you if you do not ask, Darcy," he explained gently. He watched her nibble her bottom lip and nod uncertainly.

"I want you to kiss me, and then be honest with _me_ on whether or not you...feel...anything."

"Like what?" Thor asked curiously, pushing her hair behind her ear. Darcy swallowed. That simple action seemed to make speech difficult for her. He saw that tears had formed, and he used the pad of his thumb to wipe at them.

"Of course I will help you."

He bent his head and ever so softly pushed his lips against hers, molding them gingerly into their shape. Darcy whimpered in a very heartbreaking and confusion-inducing way for Thor, and he drew away as if he had hurt her. He had felt tears on his face from hers.

"You are upset."

"I'm not fucking upset," Darcy cried frustratedly. "Dammit," she sobbed. "You poor big, oblivious, man. You're clueless, aren't you? You don't get it, do you?"

She swallowed thickly. "I knew this was a bad idea," she sniffed.

Her sudden emotional state distressed him greatly. He thought perhaps another kiss might cheer her up, so he picked her up, wrapping her securely in his embrace, and tenderly started kissing her for the third time; he took his time, learned the contours of the outside of her mouth, and then, to his own surprise, the inside. His tongue withdrew and swiped at the corners of her mouth, the creases, the outline, and then slithered back inside, caressing her tongue. Darcy's breathing had quickly gone ragged in a way he recognized, which made him pull away. His brow scrunched and it dawned on him, with all of those lovely, jagged puzzle pieces. "You _do_ have feelings for me."

"You think?" she panted breathlessly, chest heaving. More tears had fallen. A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes even as she straightened her jacket and backed away. "Obviously it isn't mutual, so-"

"Darcy-"

"No Thor. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend. You know, and I know, and maybe the timing is abso-fucking-lutely horrible-actually, it's crystal fucking clear it is-but either you do something about it or walk away. _Be honest_."

She stared at him fiercely, and when he said nothing for almost five minutes, she said bitterly, "That's what I expected. It's probably for the best, anyway." Choking on emotion, she turned to leave when Thor once again prevented it. She started to curse at him when he picked her up and set her on the table so that they were the same height. He kept eye contact, and then said very quietly, "I mean to give you a real kiss this time."

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Get ready for some pain and angst guys, and hurtcomfort. I apologise if I seem overly cruel. Toodles.


	6. Alchemy

**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**

Chapter 6: Alchemy

_"When some elements come together they create a reaction that can't be reversed. They transcend chemistry."_

_-_Dexter

* * *

><p>When Jane woke up and opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Loki, asleep and not causing any trouble whatsoever. She had rolled over in her sleep, the likely reason Silas had disappeared and in her ending up with an arm curled underneath her with her body pulled partially over Loki. All she could do was stare. His hair had dried, all silky fine and everywhere, and his lips were pursed. His side and chest rose and fell with each breath, and he had purple shadows cast underneath his lashes, darker against his pale skin. His face was open, and a yellowing splotch of discoloration showed where she had socked him for the dream, the accompanying scratches evidence, too. She could feel an odd warmth emanating from him, and a soft smell came off of him, a gentle, familiar scent. She thought about going back to sleep, and had just fluttered her eyes closed when she felt a sharp squeeze on her breast, nails digging in slightly.<p>

Her eyes flew back open and she gasped. He jumped and muttered but failed to awaken. Of course. Who else but Loki would end up dragging someone down into a situation? Jane tried wriggling away, and got the hand moved off of her breast only to have the entire arm draped over her, pulling her flat against him. His heart drummed just beneath her ear. It wouldn't have been quite so bad if he hadn't rolled over himself, which pretty much set him at least partially on top of her. Damn him. Of course he was a wild sleeper. And then, _of bloody course, right, _he _purred_. Well then. The odds were certainly never in her favor, or at least not recently.

She inched her hand out until it was free, and then she used it to shake his shoulder.

"Get _off_ of me," she hissed into his ear. He didn't seem to stir in the least. Frustrated, Jane pushed at him again, and her squirming movements brushed against him, their thighs rubbing. He made a soft sleep noise of contentment and snuggled into her. Just damn him. Damn him and everything about him. Jane huffed and tried again, and ended up jabbing him in the throat. He grunted grumpily and moved his head, ending up laying it across her chest.

She knew if he wasn't awake before that _that_ had to have done the job, and that he was either a very deep sleeper or an ass for not moving. Figuring more on the latter as being more likely, she wondered how she could ever pay him in kind. She raised her hand to slap him when his darted out to grab her wrist, one eye creaking open blearily.

"Is this the 'assault the royalty morning'?" he inquired sourly. Jane eyed him balefully.

"It might end up being that if you don't drag your royal ass off of me instead of draping over me like a couch cover and groping me in your sleep."

His eyes sparkled and a rather wicked if groggy grin spread across his features.

"Oh? And what all did I do to you?"

Jane smacked her own forehead. "What you always do. Complicate things more than necessary."

"Is that so?" he said quietly. He propped himself up on his elbows and knees over her, his stare tracing her upper body. He reached out and plucked up a delicate strand of her brown hair, twirling it between his fingers. He eyed her almost broodingly.

"Jane," he began haltingly, trailing off with his brow scrunched. She had been staring up at him, watching the almost petulant and certainly conflicted way emotions welled up to the surface. He seemed to master himself a bit, and leaned down, pressuring her down into the bed with a kiss, his knee sliding between her legs. Jane protested instantly, and, to her surprise, he pulled back immediately, though with hurt flashing into his eyes.

"You can't keep doing that," she said angrily, eyes sparking indignantly.

"Doing what?" He sounded genuinely confused, sitting all of the way back.

"You can't keep throwing me away and tricking me and using me, or making me feel like absolute _crap_, and then crawl back to me and expect me to just open my legs for you like it's some arrangement between us."

He flinched and looked down at his hand on the comforter. "Jane, I-"

"You can't keep hurting me and expect me not to feel the pain."

Jane sat up and drew in on herself, knees pressing into her chest and arms holding herself together. Loki seemed at a loss. He stretched a hand out to her shoulder, but she shrugged it off of her. "What gives you the right?" Her voice shook with pain. She was tired of going back and forth, of being angry and then feeling sorry for him. She was tired _of _him sometimes. He gave her emotional whiplash. Only the night before he had yelled at her before showing his own brokenness. His hand tightened on the material beneath it, his jaw clenched, and his nose wrinkled.

"I apologize if I am not the best at good permanent relationships," he replied sharply, "but in case you failed to notice, I have had scant practice."

Jane felt her chest constrict, her heart clenching. "Well, kidnapping was never the best way to start one." The bitterness came out unbidden, accidentally, and she saw him cringe. "I suppose not."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Jane, who had been staring very hard at the chest of drawers, felt him lay his hand very gently, very carefully, and very deliberately on top of hers. "I do not normally ask for forgiveness...but I do seek yours."

Jane changed her focus to the lamp, but not to him. She heard him sigh, and felt him squeeze her hand tentatively. She knew he wouldn't beg for her clemency. He hadn't even in the prison. But faced with his death, had she not went to him _because _he was a so called monster, because he had no one else?

"Can you not look at me?" he whispered. Jane hesitated, but did. His eyes seemed so pleading, but unexpectant. He didn't seem dangerous at all right then, just lonely and a world of other swirling feelings and emotions, and he evoked utter chaos within her. One thing she never felt with or for him was pity, and she knew he was glad for it. She leaned forward and gave him a very soft, very light kiss on the corner of his mouth, but lingered before drawing away completely, a finger tracing the bridge of his nose. His eyes closed, and he relaxed beneath the touch.

"Baby steps," she murmured. "I cannot and will not promise you of all people anything."

He started to speak, but an insistent knocking started at the door. "I came to ask if ye wanted breakfast," the old woman that had been their guide called from the other side.

"Hungry?" He didn't seem as if he cared much about breakfast, but Jane nodded and said, "You had better eat something, too."

"Why? Going to slap me again?"

"I might," she retorted. She pushed off of the bed and shuffled over to her bag for a book.

"I'm not averse to hitting, as you know," she added, half-amused. She heard him chuckle.

"I know; you've shown that aversion on multiple occasions."

Jane had to stifle a laugh and ended up snorting, which resulted in making them both laugh.

"Oh, do shut up," she snapped half-heartedly.

She straightened as he opened the door. The old woman came in bearing a tray that she set on the table.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes," they both replied at once. The woman bowed at the waist and left them. They ate in almost companionable silence, Jane eating far more. She frowned at him as he pushed food around his plate. "Lose your appetite?" She was only half teasing. He scowled softly, nibbling his lip, but did not deign to designate a response. Jane sighed, and once they had both eaten what they were going to, they both started preparing themselves for the day.

"Where are we even going now?" Jane blurted, yanking on her boots. "Will we leave and travel for the Capitol today, or will we rest?"

"I believe it best to acquire transportation and leave as soon as possible if we are to make it to the Capitol for the festival," Loki mused. Jane had a silly thought pop into her head that made her giggle. "_You_ could just turn into my horse, you know," she teased, "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I rode you, but you might be worn out..." She snorted and had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. He eyed her, half amused and playful and half genuinely indignant. He covered the confusion in how to feel by plastering on a mischievous smirk and saying, "You already did, and we both fared quite well, I would say."

Jane flushed and threw the nearest object at hand at him-it just happened to be the book she had finished a bit earlier. He ducked just as it neared his head, sailing over him and knocking against the wall.

"Prone to violence, my dear?" he chuckled, seeming to decide on being amused and playful.

"Only when you're concerned," she retorted, huffing. "You usually deserve it though, and you know it."

"Usually? Deserving?" He mock-pouted. "How unflattering. What an uncouth thing to say against me."

"But true." She shook her head wearily, finding affection that surprised her. "Incorrigible man," she muttered, combing a hand through her hair, and grinning despite herself. She saw warmth spark in his eyes, conceiving that in spite of their many calamity-filled moments, of both survival and conflict as well as strife, either between them or directed at them, they _had _grown closer, at least a bit. They sort of had a natural symphony when paired; it made her curious, wondering what things could have been like had they met under different circumstances. It all boiled down to a give and take, good and bad, minute-by-minute basis, fraught with their jangled emotions-he was someone you could switch between loving and hating by the day, someone that made you _pay attention, open your eyes._

Jane blinked her own, having processed that all very quickly as she stopped, checking to make sure nothing had fallen or been knocked down or forgotten. She straightened and almost stumbled-Silas had darted about, under her feet and in the way-falling back into something solid and realizing that Loki must have caught her again. He steadied her with an arm around her waist, not removing it immediately, and she struggled internally, sick with herself for wanting to both pull as far away from the unexpected touch as she could and lean into it as much as was possible. As usual, she reverted to her gruff self, her emotions concerning him much too complex and overwhelming for her at that moment. Mercifully, he removed himself from her close proximity, seeming to sense her discomfort and shift in mood from her accommodation to his brokenness during the night. As usual for him, he grew pensive and closed himself off from her, silence pervading. How mercurial they both could be!

Packed, they collected what little they had, waiting as Silas jumped onto Jane's shoulders, Loki closing the room door. "Could you transfigure Silas into something?" The question fell from her lips as she thought it. Loki quirked a brow at her as they descended the stairs leisurely.

"I suppose. However, he would have to be more than an ordinary horse."

Jane cackled at her own queer train of thought. "Maybe a Jubjub bird? It would be relatively fast, moderately comfortable, certainly large enough, and reasonable protection."

Not expecting him to take her seriously, it floored her when he nodded seriously, all traces of play vanishing. "It would work and be less conspicuous than having me cart you around and transform at your whim."

Jane bit her tongue frustratedly to stem a reproachful retort, deciding to listen.

He shot her a glance, lip curling upward. "What, expect me to tell you it was a ridiculous idea? It wasn't half bad, actually, even if you _were_ jesting." Jane scowled at Loki darkly, feeling childishly like sticking her tongue out at him. Silas hissed, apparently irritated with their squabbling.

"You'll hate us a lot more in a minute, I venture to say," Jane remarked.

"A safe venture," Loki commented.

They exited the building, strolling down the street and through the town with Jane watching the inhabitants. They came across a small market, weaving their way through stalled pathways and narrow alleys, dodging carts and children. The outskirts of the settlement came into view, and soon they had gotten through those, too, once more hitting rolling hills and scattered woodlands like the ones they first encountered at the portal. Despite having discussed transfiguring Silas, they walked quietly together, side-by-side, arms nearly brushing, Jane finding that she found it easier and easier not to flinch at every accidental point of contact. Both of them were in deep thought, heavily preoccupied within their own musings, although Loki had a part of him that stayed alert, watching out for them.

Glancing at the sky, Jane said, "Does that look like rain to you?"

Tilting his head back, Loki opened his mouth to reply just as the sky seemingly split open to spill over them. Jane screeched, covering her head uselessly. Silas wailed and sprang away, dashing into the underbrush. Jane darted after him instantly, not thinking, slipping over leaves and through muddied tracks of those that had gone before them, person and creature alike, branches snatching at her. Loki sprinted off in pursuit. The damn cat could get her killed-she could fall and break her damn neck or get impaled; she could hit her head and drown in an inch of water-and Loki would not have that. He snarled at the sentiment she had for the little beast, an unreasonable hatred suddenly flaring. If anything, and he meant _anything_, happened to her chasing it, he would skin it alive before he tortured it.

He could hear it mewling in the distance, pelted by the sudden downpour, and through the water dripping from his lashes, he glimpsed Jane, who, when he caught up to her, not having heard him approach, spun and collided with him, the force and momentum added to the slippery footing knocking her over. She fell with a gasp, wincing, and he knelt to assist her, proffering a hand. Jane chewed her lip and stared at it, then up at him, and he stared back. Her clothes clung to her body, her nipples visible through the soaked material of her dress, and her hair curled around her shoulders and breasts. His hair had done the same thing, curling around his neck. She took the hand, merely holding it, and seemingly started to rise up...just before the type of mischievous glimmer that usually appeared on him got displayed on her, and she yanked at him, catching him off guard and off balance, and brought him down into the mud with her. Out of nowhere, the startled Silas hurled himself into her arms. She scrutinized the three of them, mouth twitching with the slightest upturn. "We look like three drowned rats," she snickered, rain running over her chin.

Seeing the perplexed expression Loki wore, she seemed to sober, and blurted, "I...I love the rain. My mother could never keep me inside when I was a child. I always played in it, found the biggest puddles and the messiest mud, and sort of rejoiced in it. Watching...it's peaceful."

Loki's forehead wrinkled. "I do not see how...you do not seem like that would please you."

Jane scoffed. "Why?"

Loki shrugged petulantly, unsure why he thought it if he were honest about it. He glanced down at the mud splattering his robes and grimaced. "We shall have to change when this is over."

"Not that you mind taking you clothes off," Jane baited. It made him chuckle.

"Regrettably, I must say, you do."

Jane pushed him and accidentally sent him sprawling in the mud. She gasped, hand flying to her mouth, and setting down Silas, crawled over to Loki, peering at him from underneath her lashes.

"Did I hurt-" she cut off abruptly and screeched as he pulled her off balance, landing her on top of him. Jane scrabbled upwards quickly, trying to find footing but failing, and repeatedly flopped or slid onto him. Finally able to straddle him, Jane blushed furiously. She cleared her throat and met his eyes hesitantly.

"Why did you do that?" Jane whispered. He regarded her intensely. "Must I have to justify my every action?"

Jane shifted the tiniest bit, and he closed his eyes, swallowing.

He was thankful Jane was oblivious to exactly how she made him feel inside...and of course that she hadn't noticed she was making him hard quickly, her heat pressing him to his body.

"It would be nice to have reasons," Jane snipped. Her head tilted. He realized that she had been watching his lips move. Did that mean...?

"You're so difficult to handle," she sighed, looking away. Her eyes strayed back to him. "We should find somewhere to wait out the storm where we can change and wash."

Heat coiled in his stomach. How oblivious indeed...or indifferent. He had essentially called her worthless after her sacrifice for him. He did not deserve her. He could not touch her without exacting some price. He was surprised he could touch her at all.

"Reasons hardly matter," he responded quietly, garnering her attention, "After all, would any reason I have make you forgive me, or not make you think about my taking you under pretense of being another?"

Jane whimpered, and he realized that some of the new droplets on her cheeks came from her eyes and not the heavens. "Do you want me to hate you?" The words came out in a rushed harsh hiss.

"Foolish woman," he growled, sliding an arm around her waist and flipping them so that her back was the one pressed into the mud. Jane flinched away from his hovering form. He sighed, kissing her forehead, and backed away. "I would rather you loved me," he muttered.

Her eyes snapped open. "What? You're joking, aren't you? You practically ripped my heart out when I said..."

His jaw clenched, and he glared steadily away as she managed to sit upright.

"But that's why you did it. You're not joking," she whispered. Her eyes widened considerably as she considered. "The prison...last night...they meant something else to you, didn't they?"

He hated to admit that they had given him hope. "I did not mean to draw you into my plans against Thor."

"Yes you did," she said ardently, "And you know it. You saw your chance to be with me and you took it when you knew he was away."

Loki flinched. "I am not proud of everything I have done, Jane, especially anything that hurt you of all people."

Jane heard the ache in his voice...the pain was so fine, the blade of a knife, so exquisite...it cut at her heart until nothing of who she had been certain she was remained. She trembled, suddenly very cold, and noticing, he drew her into his arms carefully, not holding her too closely, but enough to help warm her. He fought down his desire and let his caring take over, his protectiveness, glad it started making him soft again. He stood with her in his arms, a bit surprised that she didn't struggle, and carried her until he found a stand of tightly grown trees, their topmost branches interwoven, offering shelter. There he dropped to his knees and set her down momentarily, swinging the pack around to find a blanket. Jane sat back against a tree, knees to her chest, watching him.

"Take off your clothes."

"W-What?!" Jane jumped. Had she heard correctly? He rolled his eyes and smiled bitterly. "There is a small cave just there." He pointed. "You will need to be kept warm."

Jane's mouth set in a firm line, and, chagrined, she rose to her feet using the tree for support, stumbling and ducking into the cave mouth, which Loki quickly inspected and deemed safe. Silas sniffed around, mewling approval, trotting off into the darkness and returning lazily.

Jane turned her back on Loki while she stripped, peeling off her wet clothes and shucking them onto the floor. She would have been self-conscious if not for his many times having had to bathe in the same stream, and therefore seeing her naked, though she could not help being inherently conscious of his eyes on her once more, tracing over her curves and edges. She sighed, turning.

"Must you do that?" Guilt flashed across him before he buried it, shrugging.

"Your underwear is wet as well. You will have to remove it."

Jane blushed heavily, fists clenching against her legs where her hands had hung limply. "No," she bit out through teeth clamped closed with emotion. Loki scoffed. "I would have harmed you by how if I wished it, and I would not commit any violence against you anyway. You know this."

"It's not that sort of violence I'm worried about," Jane muttered, arms belted about her chest. He drew in a breath sharply. Softly, sounding crushed and strangled, he spat, "You think so lowly of me that you believe I would rape you?"

Jane hesitated, thoughtful, and then finally said, "...No, I suppose not. You would ask as you usually do. And when I say no, you leave me alone."

Jane stared down at her feet. She heard him approach, saw the toes of his boots when he did, felt his breath stirring the air-and then she felt his hands very tentatively, gingerly, almost as if he were afraid to do so, settle on her hips by the waistband of her underwear, his thumbs resting on her skin. "You do not have to fear me," he whispered. "You of all people will never have to fear me."

Jane swallowed thickly, knowing he meant it, and that he regretted her pain. She felt a fat tear well up and drip down her cheek, and his left hand rise to swipe it away with the tip of his thumb. He hugged her then, cautiously, then broke away to strip himself, laying out two blankets on the floor with a pillow he had stolen, and transfiguring a small pebble by his foot into another thick, quilted one. He gestured at the makeshift nest and sat cross-legged amongst the mess, beckoning Jane forward. He tossed her a towel, patting himself dry.

Shivering, Jane decided to just rip off the metaphorical Band-Aid and shimmied out of her underwear, putting them with the rest of their clothing laid out to dry. Lowering herself once she had dried her skin, she gripped the thick top blanket protectively around her, swallowing and not speaking. She heard Loki stir, and then he said pleadingly, the concern evident, "Come here, Jane. My body heat will stop your tremors."

Jane laughed bitterly at that. "Heat?"

She met his suddenly closed off expression. "I do have some in this form," he added quietly, playing with a loose thread by his waist. Jane puffed her cheeks and exhaled, reclining fully and rolling towards him, hesitant to relax fully in his arms in her current state. His needing someone the other night had been one thing, but cuddling and snuggling her during a storm to keep her warm? That was quite another.

Stiffly, holding very still, she let him cradle her against him, finding the touch astoundingly comforting as much as it was muddling and disconcerting. But perhaps what disconcerted her more than it being Loki was that a tiny, soft-spoken part of her knew she had started growing some sort of feelings for him-not love, but confusing and painful all the same, feelings that could perhaps be love if she could ever get past what lay between them. And if she did? She shuddered physically at the thought, and Loki, thinking her chilled, pressed her closer, stroking her hair and rubbing soothing patterns on her back and shoulders, her skin seeming to warm with every time around.

"Why do you care so much sometimes?" Jane blurted, and she felt his soothing movements jerk to a halt.

Amused again, he snickered and rejoined, "Well, it is rather difficult. You like hitting me far too much for my liking."

Jane snorted, temporarily forgetting about her predicament. "I could say the same with that first bit. You don't know how conflicted I am sometimes about whether or not to strangle you or hug you."

"And now?" She felt him carelessly pick up a strand of hair and rub it between his long fingers. She leaned her head into his chest, defeated, and peered up at the shadows underneath his chin and jawline. Her throat went dry, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "I-I don't know, Loki. I don't know."

She felt his hand carefully trail her spine from the nape of her neck to just below where her bra line would run and pause.

"Try," he murmured by her ear, holding completely still.

"I can't," she replied honestly. "Don't ask me about...anything about us."

"Us?" Loki inquired curiously, hushed, and Jane groaned in consternation, mentally slapping herself.

"You know what I mean," she mumbled. She heard him make some sort of noise in his throat, and then he rested his chin on the crown of her head. She didn't even realize until her eyes drooped that she had become a little sleepy from the warmth, and drowsily and rather unconsciously, she snuggled even closer, sighing. "I just know," she whispered, thinking him asleep with his light and even breathing, "that on a good day, you make me feel safe. Safe because I know that even though you hurt me, although you didn't mean to, you would never let anyone else do anything to me, and for that I'm both grateful and less surprised by as time passes."

She dozed off, and Loki watched her side rise and fall thoughtfully, thinking of every mistake he had made with her and hating them all.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Thor had just held her after the kiss, his long arms hanging loosely about her, his forehead resting against hers, and it gave Darcy a sort of peace. His breathing, even and gentle, fluttered past her shoulder and throat.<p>

"So we both have feelings."

"I believe so," Thor replied.

Darcy leaned back a bit and stared up at him, dazed, her kissed lips a bright, flushed pink and pursed as she scrutinized him. "What the hell do we do?" Her whisper was barely audible. "What _can _we do?"

"I do not know," Thor sighed helplessly. "Under normal circumstance, we would..."

He leaned to kiss her again, his hand cupping her cheek, and Darcy met him half-way.

They both broke off, of course, when a surprised gasp came from the door, jerking back from each other. Luckily for Darcy, Thor sort of shielded her from view, and she dared not try to peek and see who had caught them kissing.

Sif's voice rang out angrily.

"You have me look for Jane but take up affections behind her back?"

Darcy rolled her eyes. How rich. It was quite obvious Sif had no love for Jane.

"It is not what you think," Thor rumbled, staring into Darcy's eyes sadly. "I did not plan to have any feelings."

"You did not have to let them consume and rule you," she hissed. Thor stiffened, his eyes hardened, and he removed his arms from around Darcy, turning carefully to keep from revealing her. "Do not speak to me of things you neither know nothing about nor try to. You are no friend of Jane's, though if you want to prove your loyalty to me, you will leave without another word and speak of this to no one."

Darcy heard Sif gasp. "That is much to ask of me."

"You can offer your life to me in battle but not your silence in our home?"

"Never ask it of me again," Sif snapped at last, sweeping from the room. Quickly swinging from the table as soon as the warrior had gone, Darcy ducked her head, blushing. "She's right, you know," she said softly after a moment, wiping away a stray tear. "It isn't right...at least not until we find Jane. And then it still wouldn't be right. How could we ever hope to sort this out? You can't find her and have me. It would be cruel to all of us. So we have to stop it now and make it a clean break."

"Darcy-"

"No, Thor," she interrupted quietly, shaking her head. "It was a mistake. We let our feelings get in the way of our sense."

He drew her closer, though she refused to look at him. "You love her, not me," she whispered, tears falling freely. "And maybe if we're lucky, we can be good friends. But we can't have this. It's not for us."

"How would we know it is not if we never tried?" Thor murmured, uncertain himself, thumb rubbing a soothing circle on her upper arm. Darcy glanced down at it. "Thor-" she warned, the rest muffled by a desperate kiss. Yes, he loved Jane dearly...but chemistry, as he had been told by Tony when he asked if he had someone, was chemistry.

"Chemistry," he began waveringly, and she met his gaze, "I have heard some people have it. An attraction that cannot be qualified or explained. Is that the reason behind this? Loss of control?"

"But we _do_ have control," she pressed, "Chemistry or no." She worried her lip. "Besides"...Sometimes, when two chemicals mix, they combust and explode."

"But not always," Thor argued. "I fear Jane may never love me or see me the same after what transpired."

"So your choice is to ditch out now?" Darcy growled, suddenly very angry for Jane.

"That was not my intent!" he thundered, and Darcy started and stared at him wide-eyed, startled. Thor stretched a hand out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand, then dropped it.

"So, what?" Darcy hissed harshly. "You give it a go and have some mistakenly impassioned one-night-stand or one-time shag and then what? I can't be with you. What if Jane's fine? Then you go back to what you were and leave me alone. And what if she isn't? What if she's damaged? I wouldn't want you if you left her after that. I'd hate you myself."

Thor recoiled, stung by her remarks, but proud of her, and appreciative of the fact that he would hate himself as well. But that meant only hardship for him and Darcy.

Thor smiled at her, a bittersweet smile, hugged her close, and then prepared to leave the room.

"Wait," Darcy said quietly, though he seemed not to hear. Louder, just as he reached the door, Darcy pleaded, "Thor, wait. Please, Thor."

He turned to her and their eyes met. He reached out, his hand on the latch. "Why?" He sounded broken, torn. Defeated.

"Because I'm sorry," Darcy sighed. "If I wasn't so stupid and impulsive..."

Thor sighed as well, gripping the latch a bit tighter. "It is not your fault, Darcy. I merely wish that I could have kept you from the pain you now feel. In fact, it is because of it that I vow to you that I will protect you from suffering any further."

Darcy put her hand to her mouth, sniffing as if to keep her composure. "What does that mean?"

"It means you are right. We need a clean break, for I cannot bear to break your heart a thousand more times, every second of every day trying to make you share me or complicit in my loss of control. It will not happen again."

"Thor." His name came out a whimper. A tear slid down his cheek, and Darcy gasped, clutching her chest as if it ailed her. "Thank you."

Thor nodded, and then he had gone. Darcy stood staring down at her hands, studying them, and then a good deal longer at the door and the empty room.

"Thank you," she murmured again, and then left herself.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Sif stopped Thor in the hallway. Her hand had shot out, catching his arm. Thor automatically protested, thinking she meant to hound him about his slip.<p>

"Sif, I thought we had an understanding that-"

She waved his rebuttal away impatiently. "You have my silence, Thor, though I expected better of you."

Thor gave her the closest thing he could to a dirty look, as he was not accustomed to giving them, and gestured impatiently. "Well, then, Lady Sif?"

"Your brother has fled his captivity on Jotunheim."

Thor went rigid, breathless. "And...And Jane?" he inquired hopefully without even delving into how his beloved brother might have gotten away. Knowing Loki, there was a consequence, and he knew not if he was ready to hear of it. Sif's face twisted with mockery, malicious spite, and a sort of disbelief. "Well, after the guard was killed going to retrieve her from her visit with Loki in prison, and her host's house robbed, it is unclear how they left, but certain that he took her with him."

Thor closed his eyes slowly. A death-no, a _murder_- and a robbery. And he still had Jane, of course.

"No one spoke with Naryu or Mordred before their departure?"

"No," Sif replied, eyeing him darkly. "She has no idea. She should be there, though. I am sure she will track him and find him."

Thor turned and leaned against the wall, resting his arm above his head on the stone. "Knowing my sister's temper, we will likely need to send a diplomat after her. I trust you or one of the Warriors Three to do so."

"Of course," she replied. She hesitated, then extended a consoling hand, the anger leaving her.

"You are still my friend. I still care for you. I know these to be difficult times for you."

Thor stiffened further but relaxed, bit by bit, until he could see her face, and then he did what he had not been able to do in a very long time-he hugged Sif, though very haltingly, because she had grown terribly bitter, cold, and closed off from him, and it saddened him greatly. Sif, shocked, adjusted her arms to return the embrace.

"I have missed you," he said gruffly.

"I know. I am not the easiest person to speak to," Sif replied quietly. Thor gave her one last squeeze and released her, straightening. Their eyes met in understanding, and then they parted-Sif to do as he asked because it was necessary and Thor to do what Thor did best: Grieve and try to make the best decision at that time...or what he thought it to be.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Naryu and Mordred arrived on Jotunheim right in the center of the main square, though not in the usual flash from the Bifrost and nearly on the dais of the arch. Instead, Naryu stepped boldly through a jagged window of her own creation, with Mordred at her heel. <em>Naturally<em>, she had rushed ahead of any escort to rescue her brother. _No one_ messed with her loved ones.

She strode furiously towards what remained of the royal grounds, snow alighting on her pale hair, her ringed eyes flashing in fury, and everything about her, from the rage rolling off of her in waves to the set of her thin lips made her resemble an avenging angel. One of the women, wearing brightly patterned cloth, came out to meet her.

"Alfrún," she acknowledged her curtly. "Where are they? I know you had them. And _do not _lie to me."

Alfrún both cringed and flinched, wetting her lips nervously. Naryu was renowned for her excellent diplomatic skills and strategic alliance making as much as for her magnificent temper. Loki raging was one thing-a monstrous thing, and so was Thor's righteous anger. But a wrathful Naryu was quite another, and she more than anyone got what she wanted more often than not. She stared at Alfrún dead in the eye and demanded, not requested, oh-so-softly, the danger palpable, "Where."

Alfrún swallowed and lowered her gaze, pointing toward the hallway leading to the dungeon. Lowly, she supplied, "He was there, your brother. His woman I kept with me in my home."

"His woman?" Naryu barked softly before the woman could add anything else to her explanation. Alfrún, usually much different, merely nodded mutely, dazed.

"I have the Grace of Knowing...I could tell that they had coupled."

Naryu snorted. "And is that all? Hardly relationship grounds. It was a mistake, a misunderstanding in communications as far as my understanding of it goes."

Alfrún's eyes lit up in sudden fervor. "And how deep is that understanding?"

"I-" But despite being initially intimidated, the Jotun woman barreled on with her ardent ranting, caught up in it.

"Such as, perchance, do you know that he loves her?"

Blindsided, Naryu lost some of her ferocious demeanor, quickly becoming bewildered.

"He-he what?" Alfrún grabbed her hand and clasped it tightly between both of her chilly ones. "He is in love with her," she insisted.

"And-and does she return the sentiment?" Naryu asked, thrown off-kilter and feeling the beginnings of dread. Jane was engaged to Thor the last time she checked. Alfrún paused, frowning. "She is deeply troubled and conflicted. I do not think so-but she could. They have a sort of...natural cohesion. It would not take much, if the circumstance allowed."

Naryu swore. If Thor's fiancée fell in love with their brother, what sort of ruin would their family be in then? It was too much. Just because she could handle something didn't mean either of them could. Of course, it didn't necessarily mean they couldn't, either. But it was not a game they were playing, and the stakes were high as it was without silly didn't mind it, his being in love, _if only he hadn't been connected to someone that was not his to steal away._ Her glare when she lifted her head was fierce. She straightened her shoulders. "Show me everything," she commanded. "And I mean, _everything_.

...xxx...


	7. Daring and Caution

**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**

Chapter 7: Daring and Caution

A/N: I'm sorry not sorry very sorry for the pain and feels that will may be experienced.

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: Daring and Caution<p>

_"There's a time for daring and there's a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for."_

-John Keating, "Dead Poets Society"

* * *

><p>"Why don't you go wrack yourself with guilt in your own room?" Thor stood quickly as Sigyn entered the room, which happened to be her receiving parlor. She had been teasing, but he started apologizing anyway. "Forgive me. I apologize for intruding, but-"<p>

"It's fine," she broke in gently, smiling kindly, her eyes sparkling playfully. She sat, cat-like and graceful, opposite of him, curling her legs beneath her. "So, what brings the younger brother of my best friend to my door-and so stricken, no less?"

Unlike his sister's soft, ethereal blonde, Sigyn's hair seemed to be a sort of vibrant, golden, radiant honey, all sunshine and soft smiles and light laughter; she had no traces of darkness or hardness about her. Her eyes always shifted color, depending on the lighting. Thor caught and held those eyes, and he knew Sigyn had seen everything-well, the aftermath his emotions had suffered, at any rate. She sighed. "Oh dear."

She stood up and paced, repeating it, "Oh dear", over and over, waving her hand to make good ale float out of her cabinet and to the table with a glass for Thor.

"Tell me."

"I do not wish to burden you unduly," Thor explained. Sigyn scoffed.

"Pish-tosh. You, burden me? Nonsense. Now tell me your troubles. It is unsettling to see your heart in so much turmoil."

Thor smiled wearily, massaging the heels of his hands into his eyes and carding his fingers through his hair.

"Well, it is a delicate matter."

"Yes?" Sigyn prompted from her medicine cabinet. Thor exhaled and haltingly began explaining, deciding not to leave out anything since he knew Sigyn was the one person who would and could remain impartial and not judge him.

By the time he had relayed everything, she seemed deep in thought, her eyebrows drawn together and her forehead wrinkled. She had handed him some sort of calming solution to take with the ale, and sat beside of him patiently. Her unfocused gaze focused on him. "This _is _troubling," she remarked. "And you do not know where she is, and are certain he still has her."

She stated rather than inquired each fact, as if checking while she mused. She hit her fingertips together and sat up straighter. "Really all you can do is wait. Don't seize the moment just yet. Be cautious."

"Do not make a disgrace of myself and break a handful of hearts," Thor added, grimacing. Sigyn's lips quirked just a bit. She patted his arm consolingly. "You haven't done any wrong-yet. Just watch where you next step."

Sigyn gave Thor a hug when he stood. "I am so sorry that I could not do more for you as of now. But of course you know that my door is always open for a friend."

Thor clasped a hand over her shoulder and kissed her forehead. "I know."

When her door closed behind him, he had another calming solution in a corked vial tucked safely into his pocket.

He reentered the throne room, confronted with his four warrior friends. Hogun wordlessly handed him a letter stamped with his sister's seal. He tore it open and read her sharp, slanting script quickly. It was concise, consisting of but a few words:

_'Brother. Going after them._

_Love,_

_N.A.'_

The paper floated gently to the floor, landing by his booted foot. Thor looked up at Sif and each of the Warriors Three for an explanation.

"So she is gone. They are both gone."

"Yes," Sif nodded.

"But she will find him," Volstagg added hopefully. "Won't she? She always does. She finds everyone."

"Perhaps," Hogun agreed.

Thor cleared his throat softly. "Thank you, all of you, I-"

They were interrupted by Little Frigga bounding into the room and leaping at Thor. Though surprised, his arms went up to catch her, and, wriggling and twisting, she stretched up to lick his nose. Thor's laughter boomed out and he petted her.

"Frigga!" Darcy called, rushing into the room. "What did I tell you about-"

She stopped, catching sight of Thor, and felt color and heat flood her cheeks. "Oh," she said. She didn't catch the dirty look Sif gave her. "My bad," she tried again when no one said anything right away. She bit her lip and glanced downward, avoiding looking at Thor for any longer than necessary. The entrance of another warrior saved her further awkwardness or future embarrassment.

"Tyr," Thor greeted, noticing him immediately. He gently pressed Little Frigga into Darcy's arms and turned to his other brother. "What news?"

Tyr relayed all he knew, talking animatedly. As he did so, he caught sight of Sif, and he winked. Sif scowled and pretended not to notice.

Tyr, smirking, said, "And did anything of import happen while I went after your sister?"

Thor chuckled dryly. Tyr looked to the others for an explanation, namely Sif. When she said nothing, Fandral supplied the response. "Yes, actually, while you went after Naryu for diplomatic reasons, she sent back a letter saying she was going to personally track down Loki and find him."

"Indeed?" Tyr lifted a brow. "She had already gone when I arrived. Scared everyone weak-willed or faint of heart, and a lot of others not. They showed her everything and she just set off into the wilderness like a bloodhound."

"She is still very angry," Thor said softly, "and grieving," he added, and then inquired after the name of the guard, saying in explanation, "I wish to compensate the family, if he left one."

"He had none," Tyr answered slowly, "Though he was called Algot. His family was killed in the Bifrost incident, and he was the last."

An awkward silence ensued.

Little Frigga broke it with a yowl and squirmed free, bolting into the corridor and out of sight. Darcy lurched forward in pursuit, pausing to throw over her shoulder, "I must follow her!"

Those gathered in the Throne Room watched her disappear, one with a clenched heart.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Little Frigga stopped abruptly for no apparent reason and began to back and scratch at a seemingly random room just as Darcy got within two feet of her.<p>

"Hey!" she exclaimed, darting forward to snatch up the animal, though not before the door creaked inward. Darcy fell on her ass, completely taken by surprise. Immediately she offered profuse apologies to whomever the owner happened to be, straightening to come face-to-face with a kind-looking blonde woman.

The woman's eyes glinted in recognition as she took in Darcy and the squirming puppy.

"Darcy Lewis and Little Frigga I presume?"

Darcy jumped. "What's it to you?" she blurted, hoping she didn't sound too rude. The woman laughed brightly and smiled warmly. "I am a friend of Thor. He spoke to me of you-only pleasant things, I assure you, but enough to feel as if I know you myself. What brings you to my door?"

"Oh-the puppy," Darcy mumbled, fumbling with said creature. She juggled the moving critter against her stomach, trying not to get licked in the eye.

"That is not what I meant," the woman continued. "Lower animals sometimes sense things in their humans. Perhaps she knew you needed to talk to someone?"

Darcy's eyes narrowed. "I don't mean to sound bitchy, but ah...why would I need to talk to _you_?"

The woman chortled. "I am Sigyn-a good listener if you need one. Thor, Loki, and Naryu all confided in me at one time or another. We grew up together, you see."

"So you're basically all of their best friend, right?" Darcy guessed. Sigyn inclined her head ever so slightly. "You could say that."

"So I guess you help their other friends, too?"

Sigyn sighed, leaning against her doorframe. "Only if they want me to."

Darcy bit her lip and stared hard at a stone by her right foot. "I'm a fool and I think I've started something that can only end terribly."

Her head jerked up when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Sigyn stood before her, her eyes sympathetic. "You are not a fool, Darcy Lewis, and you have done nothing wrong-yet. But you must be cautious. Now is not the time to be daring or impulsive. It is a season of waiting. Do you understand me?"

Darcy stared into her understanding gaze, one free of judgment or harshness.

"You know," she whispered softly.

"I know," Sigyn echoed. "I hear many things."

She took her hand away and gave Darcy a one-armed hug, retreating into her room. The door closed softly. It was then that Darcy noticed that Little Frigga had stilled and fallen asleep. She scowled affectionately.

"Sneaky snitch."

The puppy merely huffed and snuggled into her bosom.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>For the second time, Jane awoke in Loki's arms, but comfortably, although she felt peculiar. His skin felt like silk against hers, and she resisted the unaccountably strong urge to touch it. She felt his arm draped loosely about her waist, his hand on her abdomen. She swallowed, tilting her head back by the inch until she could see his face. His expression was different with her near, it seemed: closer to peace, but not quite there, a bittersweet melancholy cocktail. He whispered her name though in slumber, softly, and the way he said it was like a caress.<p>

His other hand held her limply by the small of her back, pressing softly into her skin. Jane felt the moment settle around them, and thought perhaps that had they been lovers, it would be when she kissed him and woke him with a tender caress. Something in her almost wanted to despite everything, something like chemistry but not quite. Something more terrifying and wonderful. And then a sort of haze settled over her, and she felt something else entirely.

His hips shifted and she felt him, soft and not aroused, move against her thigh and fleetingly rub her clit. She gasped involuntarily and it both broke the spell and woke him up in one instant. He stared at her groggily, dazed and confused, and then sharpened. He shifted again, coming in contact with her clit briefly, and Jane moaned, instantly flooding red in embarrassment-and flushing with instant intense pleasure.

Instead of some cheeky remark, he did it again before she could speak, and Jane moan-whimpered. "Please," she exhaled. Loki paused, unreadable, rising up a little on one elbow. "'_Please_' what?" he murmured, touching her shoulder lightly. "'Please stop' or 'please don't stop'?"

Jane's overwhelmed brain didn't seem to know. He seemed to sense as much, pausing, but Jane whispered, "Please, Loki," another time.

He swallowed, closing his eyes, and drew back. "You say that because I aroused you and you need to finish. You do not want me to. You would regret it later if I-"

Desperate, Jane sat up straight, groaning for the sensation surrounding her sensitized clit, and grabbed him for a sloppy kiss. Breaking off, she rested her forehead against his. "Please." Jane felt sick but asked anyway, compelled by the reddening haze. **_She had to. _**She knew he would, or thought so from his obvious attraction and his feelings for her.

Loki breathed heavily through his nose, trying to remain in control. "You will not appreciate it later if you let me take you now," he pressed gently. "All you need is release, which you could find on your own. You do not want me."

"And suddenly you're the responsible one?" Jane taunted, completely confounded with her own actions and words. Loki sighed. "Jane, you do not know what you ask. It would not be taken the same way."

"You never say no," Jane appealed. Loki snarled and pushed her flat onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head, and the fog driving her abated an inch.

She started breathing heavily, her breasts heaving. "Now," she whispered. Loki eyed her oddly. "Did you take something," he asked sharply. Jane stared at him confusedly.

"Are you asking if I'm high?"

"Yes," he replied shortly. Jane shook her head no. He leaned down, eyes narrowed, and smelt her breath.

"Sweet, like fruit and candy," he muttered, and when he straightened, he seemed anxious.

"What all did you eat? Did you eat anything different?"

Jane frowned, wiggling her hips suggestively, pouting when Loki ignored her. "No."

"Did you eat any fruit?"

Jane shook a no again.

"Berries?" He sounded horrified. Jane paused, remembering, and nodded.

"There were some bits in my desert."

Loki groaned, releasing her wrists, and covered his face. "Damn," he whispered. He said it louder a few more times.

"What's wrong?" Jane asked worriedly, sidling up to his lap and grinning in a very uncharacteristically lascivious manner. Loki's hand dropped.

"Tum Tum berries," he said with an irked sigh, "Not eaten whole in any case and they can cause things such as a craving for new experiences, mild mood change and personality shifts...and or increase in sexual pleasures or desires. In rare instances, they do so exponentially."

"So?" Jane purred, placing a hand on his knee.

Loki swore. Jane giggled hysterically.

"So they can cause insanity or heart failure in humans," he snapped. Her smile barely flickered. Loki removed her hand. "Also _so_, your desire is likely manufactured or hyped so ridiculously that you would take anyone close to you."

Jane slipped her hand between his knees.

"And your plan?"

"It will only worsen," Loki acknowledged. "I know _that_ without knowing how much you consumed."

"_So_...logically you have to play to my desires. Unless-" she straddled his lap, stroking him, and his resolve wavered a tad- "you would rather I fuck someone else." She giggled again, louder and longer, like a drunk.

Loki pushed her off but with care. "I _do not_ want to _fuck_ you!" he hissed angrily. Jane frowned and burst into crocodile tears, outraged. "_Why?"_

Loki pinned her down again, glaring, and the waterworks cut short. Her lips curved into a lusty grin. "Gonna do it, princeling?"

"No," he growled. He bent his neck, kissing her ear, and her entire body shuddered. He blew over the shell, speaking lowly. "I want to make love to my Jane. Slowly. Passionately. Breathtakingly."

Jane arched upward, mewling. "Please."

Loki gazed at her sadly, shaking his head no. "But you are not my Jane."

"Yes I _am_," she whined pitifully, crying again. "Loki, don't you love me anymore, or was it a lie, too?" Loki sat back on his heels.

"I am the one saying no this time _because_ I love you. I know you would not want this as yourself." He kissed her chastely, cutting off any protests, then pulled her into a sitting position. "The new experiences do not have to be of this nature," he mused, patting her hair absentmindedly as she toyed with his nipple. "And it will be a while yet before you start to become mad. I could even simply find the berries whole."

His gaze refocused as she touched his tip. Resolutely, he announced, "If you come with me back to the last town, I promise I will give you what you need."

He didn't feel guilty about playing on those words with her wires crossed. He would not violate her trust again, and no matter what he said when they fought, he _did_ love her.

She eagerly dressed when he requested it since he had "promised", and he packed. He grabbed the cat she couldn't think of, and then he gripped her tightly to teleport back. It was a short distance, and one in which he knew exactly where he was going to, unlike the childhood memories whose accuracy in the present he could not trust.

She twined amorously around him, and sighing again, he blinked out of the cave and back to the town, hoping he found those damnable berries.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Naryu and Mordred landed artfully side by side, graceful dragon necks arching, forked tongues flickering, tasting the air for any traces of the essence of the auras they had been tracking, Naryu also scenting for traces of familiar magic.<p>

"It stops here for a bit," Mordred growled. "Should we search the perimeter?"

Naryu shook her great head no and nuzzled the snow with her silvery-blue snout. "They slept here. He stayed in his Bandersnatch form."

Her head rose and she scanned the surrounding scenery, sending out a few rings of smoke and ash. "There were others here."

Mordred rumbled a consent, adding, "Hunting party."

Naryu huffed her agreement and flapped her wings, sending flurries flying in all directions. Mordred shook off what spray had hit him, and with a wordless shared glance, the two rose into the air again, Naryu shooting like a comment in the direction she could sense Loki had flown with Jane; she felt the pull of a portal nearby, one she would take to follow them directly if they had used it. Mordred glided after her, a navy blur against the sky.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Darcy ran smack dab into Thor, managing to hold onto her bottle of spirits. She stumbled backward, almost tripping, but he caught her by the shoulders, steadying her.<p>

"Darcy?" He spoke softly, sounding confused but also concerned. "What has happened? Tell me."

Apparently he could tell the difference between "my-eyes-are-red-because-I'm-plastered" red, swollen, and puffy and "I-just-cried-them-out" red, swollen, and puffy.

Without thought or pause she lurched forward clumsily and clung to him, burying her head and face into his shoulder, sniffing. It took her a long while to choke the words free, and when they did they tore out of her in a scarily calm rasp filled with unshed pain. "Both my mom and my dad died today."

A jolt went through Thor. Speechless, all he could do was cradle her to his chest, absentmindedly beginning to stroke her hair.

Darcy wept softly against his shirt, her tears seeping through the fabric. Thor's strong arms felt like cables grounding her. She let off one last wrenching sob, then leant her head back and whimpered, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep. Will you stay up and talk with me? I don't...I can't be alone right now."

Thor patted her back soothingly. "Of course."

He made a quick decision and led her to Sigyn's room, one arm around her shoulders to keep her walking straight. If anyone could help, Sigyn could. He knocked twice, waiting, and while Sigyn approached from the other side, Darcy took another long swig.

Sigyn answered just as the bottle tipped back downward. She barely looked them over once, instead unquestioningly opening her door as wide as it would go. Thor shot her a grateful glance at Sigyn over Darcy's head as she ducked into the warm room he knew so well. Sign locked the door behind them, leaning against it while she watched Thor gently guide Darcy into one of the squashy brown chairs close to the hearth.

"Something happened."

Darcy groaned and flopped back into the cushions in it, and Thor plucked the bottle out of her limp fingers as she began using her hands to speak.

"Their fucking cruise ship sank. They survive that but then the damn lifeboat sinks, too, and they drown." She eyed Thor a bit irritatedly, reaching for the bottle. "They never learned how to swim."

Thor held it out of her reach, an arm out to keep her from it. "No more spirits," he said sternly, reaching to set it on the table. Sigyn sat down near them. She seemed to be searching for something to say. "She means her mother and father," Thor supplied in a hushed tone."

"You have suffered a great and terrible loss, then," Sigyn said, turning her focus onto Darcy. "But you will not find relief in a bottle, only numbness and misery." She extended her hand and covered Darcy's with it, giving her an encouraging squeeze.

Thor's heart swelled. What would he do without one of his dearest friends? Sigyn the compassionate and ever caring. As he thought it, she stood and went to a trunk in the corner, returning with blankets.

"Stay as long as you need to," she instructed, placing them near Thor and Darcy.

"Going somewhere?" Thor inquired. Sigyn pointed to her bedchamber. "I have had a long day and I trust you are more familiar with her than I. You know how to be a better comforter."

Thor frowned, squinting at her. "You are not well yourself. Why did I not see it before?"

Sigyn crossed her arms over her chest. "Even if I were unwell-which I am not-I would guess, in theory, that I hid it from you because you were troubled enough."

"In theory," Thor echoed, frowning, but she merely graced him another soft smile, retreating to her own nest.

Her door closed soundlessly, and Thor returned his attention to Darcy. She had gone and filched the bottle and nearly drained it. Thor snatched it away furiously, throwing it into the hearth fire, sending the flames leaping high into the air.

"Hey!" Darcy exclaimed, and she whirled, beating on his chest with her fists. "Why the hell did you do that? It makes it hurt less!"

She fell against him with a defeated sob escaping. Thor hugged her again. Darcy's lip quivered and she crawled closer, snuggling against him. "Jerk," she mumbled, but she stayed in place, and soon she was snoring peacefully. Thor picked her up and laid her awkwardly across the sofa, sliding a pillow underneath her head and draping a blanket over her. He sat down in the chair directly across from her, watching her side rise and fall, his expression troubled. He brushed stray hair out of her face, his hand lingering, feeling rather helpless and thinking that he had felt that way far too often recently.

...xxx...

* * *

><p>Loki placed a second berry against Jane's lips. "Open your mouth and eat it whole."<p>

Jane giggled pervertedly, easing her lips over both the berry and his fingers, eyebrows raised suggestively as she swirled her tongue against the pads of his fingertips. She made the most unholy sucking sound and then plucked the berry away with her teeth. Loki, scowling, wiped his fingers on his pants and reached into the basket for another berry, all the while watching to make sure Jane ate properly. They sat in a little valley between two of the rolling hills.

He wondered how many would make the effects of the first wear away, and kept wondering until nearly half a basket later, when Jane suddenly froze, going ramrod straight mid-swallow of her latest mouthful. Her dilated pupils retracted and she shook her head violently, jerking onto her side. He eased his arms around her to lift her onto transfigured boulders made comfy cushions and plush pillows, untangling himself from the hold. Jane's eyes snapped open, and she blurted, terrified, "What does it mean if I still want you?"

Loki shuddered and slowly began inching the hem of her dress up just a bit, his hand rising to caress her thigh. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he regarded her.

"How badly?" he whispered, tense.

Jane squirmed but stilled, rolling onto her back, propped up by her elbows and the heels of her feet, eyes wide. The wild light had left her eyes, replaced by fear. "Why would I still want you after it's over, Loki?"

Loki's Adam's-apple bobbed nervously. "It would mean," he whispered, staring at the exposed creamy skin of her legs, "that deep down you already desired me before you ate them...that it was a hype but not a manufactured feeling."

Jane shivered, her hand flying to her heart. "So you mean that I basically have some sort of convoluted feelings and they manifested into-into how I acted earlier?" Her cheeks grew blood red. Loki boldly pushed the material around her waist and leaned to kiss her hip, watching her from underneath his lashes. To both their surprise, she arched instantly under that innocent tenderness alone. A whimper dropped from her lips, a plea soon following. "Please."

He sat back with a sigh. "Maybe if you weren't still high off of those," he remarked, tracing the outline of her underwear.

"I'm just as confused as you are, believe me," Jane retorted. His lips quirked into a quick smile that morphed into its smug devious counterpart. "My Jane wants me."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Clearly we established that." As he started some clever quip, she flashed upward like lightening, pushing him onto his back with uncharacteristic strength. Straddling him for the second time, she watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he stared up at her. "Be careful how you play with me, Jane. I only have so much control."

"And much more passion, I'd wager," she murmured, caressing his face. He closed his eyes, half of him preparing another warning and half of him wanting to let her have her way with him.

He felt her fingers go to his shirt buttons, slowly opening them-there were only three. Her small hand running over his chest had him purring again, and her lips descended on his collarbone. His hands rose and gently tugged her away. His eyes opened. "I must know...are you simply doing this because of the berries?"

He saw her head tilt, her pinky tracing her lips thoughtfully. "I don't think so," she sighed at last, eyes conflicted as ever. His right hand left her side and tenderly cupped her face. "You would give me of all people permission to touch you in that way, Jane?"

Jane drew in a shaky breath. She didn't know what she felt anymore. It seemed all too soon, but that didn't stop her from pulling away from his gentle grasp, or her hands going to the bottom of her dress and pulling it over her head, which elicited a sharp gasp from Loki.

"Jane-" he hissed in warning, but Jane gave him a decisive stare, grinding down onto him. Loki whimpered and moaned, no longer attempting real speech for at least that moment.

He drew her into a deep kiss, still halfway testing her, probing around in her mouth with his tongue. He flipped them carefully, stripping off his shirt, and supported himself on his heels, staring down at her lying almost bare in the grass. "If only you were mine," he whispered, tracing a circle around one nipple. Jane trembled. "Why? What would you do to me? Differently I mean."

Loki rose to his knees and slid his pants off of his hips, twisting to get them off completely. Jane watched, scrutinizing his form.

He ran his hands up her legs to her waist, leaning to kiss her other hip. "I could certainly show you instead of _just_ fucking you senseless." Jane quivered at those words, said against her abdomen just above her panty line. Her hips lifted and he drug them off ever so slowly, parting her legs and staring. "Anyone could see us," Jane suddenly realized, musing dismissively in the next second, "But you've already fixed that, haven't you?"

"For all intents and purposes, we do not exist to the world beyond the bounds of my wards."

"Then show me how you feel," Jane prompted. "Make me understand...Don't hold back."

Loki closed his eyes again at the request. His nostrils flared, he stilled; he hooked her legs over his shoulders sightlessly, gingerly bringing her closer by her hips.

And then shortly after he had Jane writhing in pleasure, stabbing at her doubt.

He crooked two fingers upwards, angling them against her walls as he took her clit, still slightly swollen and throbbing from earlier, between his teeth, sucking. He skimmed his tongue briefly over her outer lips, dipping it inside of her. Jane grasped the only thing nearby since she had abandoned the cushions and pillows-grass, shredding it with claw-like fingers as he flitted in and out, up and down the length of her slit, massaging her clit with it. He pressed her clit between his puckered lips, getting a yelp from her with one flick and a slow follow-up stroke. Whimpering, Jane whispered his name, and he inserted another finger at a different angle. He played her walls like an instrument, drawing out higher and higher notes from her, a crescendo of her keening that ended in a warbled scream muffled by Jane herself despite the reassurance that no one but Loki could hear her.

He gave her thigh a lingering kiss, and then laid her limp legs down and sat back, watching her watch him, her eyes filled with heady warmth and surprise. She stretched languidly, observing as he licked his lips and cleaned his fingers similarly.

"What did you taste?" she blurted awkwardly.

Loki seemed surprised, but crawled over her, bringing her into a long kiss that involved his letting her taste herself. He broke off, panting, and began peppering her upper body with wet kisses, his hands shaking as he ghosted his palms over her breasts.

"Would you still want me, I wonder," he pondered aloud, "if I did not wear this skin."

"I'm shocked that I want you at all," Jane admitted softly, "but what do you mean?" She kissed the side of his neck before he drew away, and suddenly she knew what he meant before he did it.

He stared down at her, red eyes desperate and vulnerable, and Jane rose up to kiss him. "Does your love change?"

"No." His eyes narrowed. "I wish I could ask the same of you, but I know very well that you do not love me. You have made it abundantly clear."

"But I could," Jane blurted, instantly regretting it when she saw hope spark to life in his gaze. He pressed his chilly body to hers, his cold mouth taking in a nipple. The cool radiating off of him took most of his work away from making her nipples erect; they hardened beneath his tongue almost instantly. Gasping, Jane found a thin frost gathered beneath her back, radiating out from them as Loki tentatively rubbed his penis along her labia.

"Do you still want this?" he whispered. "Even with me like this."

Jane kept her eyes locked on his, feeling around until she could grasp him, ignoring his hiss and gasp when she did, and pressed his head to her entrance. "Cold feet?" she teased, trying to hide her resurfacing fear. Loki chuckled nervously, gliding into her. Jane's eyes widened. "What did you do?"

"Ridges," he shrugged, smirking. "A benefit of this form if no others exist."

Curiously, Jane inquired, "I must feel...well, good to you. All soft and warm, my skin clinging to you, molding really..."

Loki laughed. "Jane, do shut up while I still have my reason."

It was Jane's turn to laugh. "What reason?"

Smiling affectionately, he began rolling his hips against her, a mischievous smirk preceding a vicious thrust as he pulled out and slammed back in all of the way.

"Loki, I will make you pay for that," Jane warned.

"Oh? I would love to know how." His eyes were laughing at her, every movement slow and deliberate. Jane clung to him, pressing a desperate kiss to his neck as she whispered there, "I bet that all these ridges are are thin casing over nerve endings." She laved his pulse-point, watching him tremble, and traced the series of looping designs that converged there.

"Stop that," he hissed. Jane lifted a brow, grinning playfully. Gliding a hand over the planes of his chest, she inquired, "What, stop touching you? Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes," he snapped, then, "I mean _no_. Damn you."

Jane drug her nails gently over the lines crisscrossing his sides, and he gasped, his head falling onto her shoulder. He panted heavily, kissing the skin closest to him. Jane danced a ticklish touch along the inside of his arm. Her legs encircled his waist and held him close as she caressed his shoulders and back. He shuddered with every gentle touch. He lifted his head and sought out her mouth, clutching her to his chest.

"Let me..." He tried speaking, but Jane shushed him. She caressed his cheek, stroked his hair, and brought his ear near her lips. "Go lay on those pillows on your back- if you want me touching you, that is."

Loki swore profusely, pressing another kiss on her, and sat back, indecisive. "How will we get anything done if all you want to do is play?" he teased breathlessly. He smiled, leaning back over her, and led her into a long, slow kiss, starting into a half excited and half tender pace. "Perhaps next time," he amended. Jane found it more amusing than infuriating. "Do you always cheat?" Jane pondered, hooking her limbs around him once more.

"Only to ensure survival," he retorted. Jane laughed, but it stuck in her throat suddenly. "Why am I doing this?" she wondered aloud.

She stared at him helplessly, making Loki wonder if it _had_ been the berries, after all. But then her vision cleared, though a slight frown remained, and she traced the spirals coiled on the surface of his chest over his heart. "You've changed something inside of me," she whispered, and then she threw herself into that moment before she could examine the realization too closely.

"Ah." He had forgotten about the side effects. He tried remembering what he meant to say to string it into something coherent as she continued her little touches all over, gripping him tightly with her knees.

"You can experience-" he moaned softly-"loss of past inhibitions"- he hissed, arching over her, shaking- "or being unable to restrain or ah-agh...resist your deepest impulses."

"And I bet it just makes you all warm inside," Jane wavered, "because it means deep down on some level that I've wanted to jump your bones, or at least thought about it."

"As I said before." He sounded smug again. Jane got her revenge by holding his hips in place when they next jolted back and prepared to return. She reached between them, sliding more of him out, and drug a vengeful fingernail down the thickest ridge.

Loki nearly collapsed on top of her, and the scream she got out of him made her want to repeat the action. He bit into her shoulder gently, a warning, but she did it again-and again, a multitude of agains until she knew she had better stop before he came from that alone. She stopped holding him back, stole a kiss, and pressed another to his ear before whispering into it, "I told you I would get you back, didn't I?"

She slammed upward, winding her hands into his hair.

He responded by being everywhere at once, touching her hair and her face, closer than before, moving his head so that he could touch their foreheads together. "I do love you," he whispered faintly, almost sounding hoarse.

"I know," Jane acknowledged as his movements became more erratic and less concentrated. "I know."

She whimpered then, and it seemed to encourage him. "Please don't hurt me again...Please don't fail me."

She felt tears fall on her breasts, and registered with a jolt that they were his.

"Don't cry," she whispered, "Please don't cry, Loki."

"Love me," he pleaded, "Jane, I need..."

"I know," Jane whispered, "You need me."

He let go after that, and she held him through it, trying to comfort him. "I forgive you," she choked, felt herself let go, too. She repeated it when they had both settled into a quiet peace, unmoving.

"I forgive you."

* * *

><p>AN: I sincerely apologize for any typos or erros that I likely missed. I will revise them later when I may.


	8. Human

I know it's been a while, but here comes the next two-part installment. Things are heating up in the oven and there's a twist coming along the way. Also, I might be torturing you guys a bit. Love you!

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><p><strong>Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain<strong>

Chapter 8: Human

_"And I hate myself for being human. What good are hearts if you can't use them?"_

- God or Julie

* * *

><p>Darcy knew she was dreaming, but that didn't stop the terror, helpless abject terror. Because Darcy Lewis was dreaming of drowning. She nearly had, when she had been three years old. And she remembered the entire ordeal.<p>

She remembered the crushing weight of the water all around her, the hard coldness of it and the way it burned her lungs, clogging her throat and stuffing her little nose. It tasted bitter. And what she remembered most clearly, as she sunk lower, dying, was that her parents couldn't save her. They were as helpless as she, unable to swim, unable to teach her to, staring agape with horror at her from the city docks where they had gone to buy fresh fish. She could still see them, watched them begging someone, anyone, to save her, please god, before she stopped breathing. Before her heart stopped beating.

Finally, some man—she never knew who, just that he'd—been out of work and doing odd jobs when he had them—dove in and fished her out, put air into her tiny tired lungs. He carried her to the emergency room with her parents trailing behind morosely, and he smelled like peppermint and aftershave. She recalled being home that night, afraid to close her eyes and thinking she wouldn't wake up. How she'd thrown herself into swimming lessons, sworn she wouldn't die that way.

And then, this. Both her parents drowning in one day, so close to freedom they could taste it. She knew she shouldn't have drunk the spirits. Some of them turned the lights off too quickly, and some of them made her crazy. Some of them made it so she couldn't hide from her memories, brought out so vividly by the affects. She stayed away from those. After all, why drink something to be numb only to feel all too much?

Darcy shuddered, finding a blanket atop herself and pulling it closer. The spirits from Jane's room made everything fuzzy. These spirits merely had the effect they should—making her drunk off of her ass and ending there, no more, no less. No vivid hallucinations and nightmares, no excitement, no crazy. Just sleepy, she reckoned in hindsight. So her nightmare was of her own mind uninfluenced by anything other than shock. She sat up then, noticing Thor asleep in a chair across from her. She didn't know quite what to say. She'd probably embarrassed herself with drunken slurs and red-eyed ranting, not to mention her over-zealous dive into being plastered. That was excluding everything else, of course. Thor himself seemed worried and preoccupied even asleep, his brows drawn together. Darcy didn't want to wake him just yet, as he rarely slept those days. She knew the signs of sleep deprivation all too well.

She reached out hesitantly and stroked stray hair from his face. A beat passed, and she couldn't help but touch him again, tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, and the arch of his eyebrows. On impulse she caressed his cheeks, slid one finger along his nose. Then she remembered herself and withdrew, curling inward. She blinked, darted forward, and jerked back. Darcy rocked on her edge of the seat, torn. But finally, the temptation too great, she cautiously crept over to him and lightly kissed his forehead, lingering a moment, glad he slept heavily.

She searched for a bottle of booze like the one he'd smashed, the blanket wrapped around her, and began to flee. Until Thor's voice startled her. "Darcy," he sighed.

She yelped, the bottle crashing to the floor. It took her a moment to realize that he still slept. She waited a second just to be safe. She stared guiltily between him and the mess she'd made, wishing she had magic. She swore, hurriedly mopping up the liquid. As she cleaned the glass, Thor said her name again and she cut her palm. She bit her lip to muffle the cry. One glance assured her that he hadn't woken up. Frowning as she searched for bandaging, she heard him sigh her name a third time. "Darcy," Thor moaned. Darcy froze, fumbling the wrapping she just found for her wound. The intern turned and found Thor shifting ever so slightly in his sleep, brows drawn together in a different tension than before. His arms flexed, fingers moving, and he groaned. "Oh, Darcy," he whispered. Tears slipped down his cheeks as his hips jerked. Darcy felt mortified. Thor had to be having a wet dream about her.

He confirmed her suspicions a moment later when he developed a tell-tale sign. Darcy, blushing furiously, covered her mouth with her hand, grimacing when she tasted blood. Damn. She'd used her injured one.

Shaking her head, Darcy clambered to get her hand cleaned and bound. Perhaps she could leave before—"_DARCY_!" Thor exclaimed in a whispered yell, an exhale of pleasure. Darcy stared uncertainly, unsure of what the hell she was supposed to do in that particular awkward situation. Leave? Wake him up? Ignore him? Go into Sigyn's bedroom? None of them seemed appealing, but neither did watching. Her stomach lurched. _Shit._

Unable to take anymore, Darcy fled towards the door. The exact moment she got level with Thor, he nearly whimpered her name, a desperate keen, and his hips gave their biggest rut yet. Darcy tripped headlong, landing in a heap in his lap. Thor gave a guttural moan at the actual physical stimulation, forcing Darcy to muffle his scream with both hands as he came in his sleep. What made everything worse, aside from feeling his boner against her where she perched precariously, trying not to fall again, or his wetness through their clothing, had to be his piercing, earnest, horrified eyes gazing back at her.

"Darcy?" Thor now only sounded appalled and stunned. Darcy made quick work of getting away from him, nearly throwing herself onto the floor.

"I-"

The door to Sigyn's room started to creak open. Darcy scrabbled onto the sofa, the blanket tangling around her, and feigned sleep. Thor stared about helplessly, landing on a second blanket. He managed to grab it and spread it out and pretended to be asleep as well. Sigyn peered out sleepily, eyes still heavy. Seeing nothing stirring, she hesitated only a moment more, closing her door firmly. Darcy was afraid to open her eyes. When she finally did, she found that Thor already had his open, and was staring at anything but her.

"Darcy—"

Darcy buried her face into her pillow. "No."

"I must-" She shook her head at him, clutching the pillow in place so tightly it seemed as if she might smother herself.

"I don't want to talk about it," she wailed, muffled through the pillow. Thor cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

"It was not on purpose."

"Of course not," she retorted, "you can't help what thoughts're in your brain, can you?"

"I had not been thinking on it," Thor insisted urgently. "I swear it!"

"Right," Darcy muttered, struggling into an upright position and looking like a ruffled bird. "It just happened."

"So you understand," he appealed.

Her nose scrunched. "Unfortunately." She huffed, dragging her fingers through her unruly hair. "It means you have repressed desires on which you aren't acting."

The expression on Thor's countenance would have been comical if not for the discomfit in which they both found themselves hemmed into, drowning in despair. Thor licked his lips uncertainly, nervously, something Darcy never saw him do. He cleared his throat again, swept his overly large hand through his hair from the middle of his forehead straight back. It fell, parting in golden waves.

"You-you can't do that when she gets back," Darcy stuttered, gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. "When we get Jane back, I mean. Don't do that to her. Whether she wants you or not, if she's in the room and that happens again...It just can't."

Thor exhaled wearily. He rubbed his temples. "I know, Darcy. I know."

Darcy discarded the pillow while heaving herself onto the balls of her feet, flinging the blanket away. As she moved, Thor apparently noticed her bandaged hand, because he caught it when she bent to retrieve the blanket to fold it and put it away. She stiffened, unsure if he should be allowed even that small contact. His thumbs caressed the edges of the wrapping curiously.

"What happened here?" He sounded genuinely concerned, enough so that Darcy, biting her lip, relaxed a bit, though she tried to pull away before answering. "I was trying to sneak out with a fresh bottle of spirits from Sigyn's stores, but I...uh...I dropped it when I heard you saying my name. The first time."

Thor jerked his touch away in surprise, then seemed embarrassed. "The first time?"

Darcy's cheeks and neck felt aflame. She stared into the embers of the dying hearth fire. "Yeah. The second time happened while I was cleaning it up. It startled me so badly that I sliced my palm open. The third time I almost dropped the bandages."

She saw Thor swallow thickly from the corner of her eye. "My apologies….Anything else, Darcy?"

"You kept getting...um...more enthusiastic?" She winced. He cringed. "Ah," he said, "I am sorry you had to bear witness to that."

"I think my hand's sorrier, actually," Darcy muttered. Thor pinched the bridge of his nose and kept flicking a loose thread on the sofa.

"So, um...what did you see?" Darcy flinched at the morbid curiosity to know what exactly Thor had been doing to the Darcy in his head. Thor stared fixedly at the ceiling, breathing heavily through his nostrils.

"Lady Darcy, perhaps it is best not to—"

"I want to know."

Thor nearly bit through his lip. "No."

Darcy started to insist when a knock came at Sign's outer door. Thor and Darcy shared a glance, both pairs of eyes darting toward it. Darcy held a finger to her lips to silence him and shook her head no.

_'Maybe they'll go away if we ignore them,'_ she mouthed. Thor frowned at the door as another knock came at it. He started to go and answer it, however, Darcy tackled him, and together they fell back into the chair he had occupied. They stared at each other, eyes wide, even after the person had gone.

Darcy gulped. Yet another screw up to add to her long laundry list of them. She'd just tackled Thor Odinson...and he'd let her knock him over. Darcy nibbled on her lip nervously and tried to slither off of him. She'd landed in a heap, face planted into his shoulder, an arm above her head, and a leg at an odd angle. Tossing her hair to get it out of her eyes, she turned her head to the side, nose accidentally brushing against his neck. Her movement dialed down to zero when Thor moaned softly, just as he had been when dreaming about her earlier. He immediately had shame written all across his features. Darcy gave him a questioning look, but understood immediately when she felt something poking into her knee of all places. Darcy literally sprang back over to the sofa like an Olympic gold medalist of gymnastics.

Thor coughed, abashed. Without giving him a chance to speak, Darcy shot to her heels and strode right by the cabinet containing the spirits this time, skirting completely around the room. She twisted the doorknob to the door wordlessly, flung it open wide, and vanished into the hallway, breaking into a sprint. Thor sighed and dropped his head into his hands. How and when had things gone so horribly, terribly wrong for everyone? And when had he started running off Darcy Lewis simply by being in the same room?

* * *

><p>Thor shivered as he lowered himself into the frigid bathwater, sliding in to his waist. He dove under, glad he had a rather large tub, and swam the short distance back and forth. He let himself sink to the bottom, bubbles drifting upward from him. He propelled to the surface, gasping as he broke through, water streaming. He swam back and began scrubbing furiously, never feeling quite so filthy. Not for the dream. Not for coming in his sleep. Not even for having such torrid fantasies of a woman. What distressed him was that it was Darcy, the woman he'd only recently found he fancied, and one which he had had to make a promise to never to cross those lines. Mostly so he wouldn't break her or Jane's hearts. Apparently, though, his heart, and more obviously, his body, disagreed. But his brain did not. Thor threw his cloth and brush across the room irately, five thousand percent done with the paradox of himself. It only ended in him beating the water like a petulant child, then going to fetch the items with quick, precise strokes.<p>

As he bent to get them where they'd sunk, wrapped together as they'd been, he couldn't help staring at his excitement. He hadn't noticed because of the numbing affect of the icy water, but it still bobbed as darkly reddish-deep violet as ever, swollen even. Groaning in consternation, he tried laps again, if tiny laps considering what he needed, tried immersion underwater again, tried scrubbing, even tried thinking of Sif to make him lose his arousal, but it didn't work. He'd have to get to actually face the source of his duress, and none of those things would help him do that. He leaned his head against the cold tiles once he'd crawled out, sprawled flat. His skin began to warm from the air, and his excitement shuddered at having warm skin on skin contact. He felt it pulse, like a heartbeat. Taunting him. Making a frustrated noise, he sat up straight, lightly rubbing a finger up himself from base to tip, shivering. He sought for something safe, picking the time Jane had shared with him when he'd first gone to earth. He tried to touch himself the way she had from memory, tried to put his fingers where her trembling ones and her warm mouth and tongue had been, grasped himself so hard when he had to give up that it hurt.

Cringing internally, he tentatively thought of Darcy and instantly felt a pulsation. Him imagining Darcy made his entire frame jolt. He did it again, then left off, feeling guilty. He instead tried focusing on someone he knew he didn't fancy or love that he'd been with, trying to find any way to gain release. That fell through, too, though, so he brought to front a stronger memory of him with Jane, one where they'd gone to the library for research, found an old astronomer's den—Naryu's—on the way there, and...

_"What's this?" Jane stared around curiously, then her eyes lit in realization. "Is this..?"_

_She breathlessly picked up a star chart. Thor came up behind her, looking at it over her shoulder. "Yes," he gently took it from her hands. "My sister's work, I believe. I never found where she kept it all. This must have been her workspace."_

_"She watched the stars?"_

_"She could use them to tell the future," Thor added with a smile, laying his head on Jane's. His hands rested on her tummy, but glided higher as she continued to stay absorbed in a journal of Naryu's. She didn't notice them dip into her cleavage line until quite abruptly she found Thor cupping both her breasts, completely popped free from any binding._

Jane went very still. She waited, knowing...

Thor fisted himself at what would come next in the reverie of the past...  
><em><br>Thor withdrew his touch. Jane whirled around, only to be whirled back around. She yelped with surprise as he braced her against the nearest, clearest (though perhaps messiest, with stuff piled all on the opposite end) table and slid his hands up to the front of her bodice again, unlacing her ribbon from behind, pressing himself against her as he did—breathing heavily in her ear, nearly hyperventilating from lust, as he undid the first two buttons in the back to kiss her spine, feeling how she trembled and made exquisitely soft moans of anticipation. He bent, gathered her skirt up and bunched it about her waist, underwear pulled aside, and she braced her hands against the table with her back arched in readiness. She heard fabric shifting as he fumbled to disengage from his pants, so steeped in sudden desire he could barely think._

He rubbed his cock-head along her folds and entrance. Jane cried out as he stuck two fingers he'd wet into her, pumping them in and out, trailing up to her clit. He used his knees to separate hers as his familiar weight settled between her legs. Thor thrust into Jane in one motion, completely sheathed. Jane groaned. Thor unsheathed almost entirely, waiting with his leaking, twitching cock at the ready as he toyed with her clit. The more he stroked and caressed and grasped roughly at it as he toyed with her, the wetter she got. He caught some fluid with his working finger, offering it to her to taste. She shook her head no and squirmed. At that, her entire back pressing into him, he slammed in as he rubbed mad circles over her clit and spasmodically teased a nipple. He left her breasts, bent her over fully and jerked nearly out again, crushing back inside. He couldn't help the desperate whiplash of his hips as he screwed into Jane, nor the sucking on her shoulder as he did.

Jane's walls were flaring, pulsing around him, tightening. He ripped himself out and whipped her around again, lifting her onto the table. He crawled up after her, immediately inserting himself back into his desperate actions. Her legs hung from either side, dangling off of the table as he moved, mouth on her breasts like a nursling. Jane had said nothing. Just let him open her legs impossibly wide, not realizing he wasn't just shoving his body against and into her, but also his insecurities.

...Thor's hand picked up its pace, squeezing his throbbing shaft...  
><em><br>_And suddenly his memory had been corrupted. It changed, as if someone had painted over graffiti on a wall and crafted a new image overtop it. For in Jane's place he suddenly saw Darcy, and he ripped his hands away as if he had burned himself. No. _No._ _Absolutely not!  
><em>  
>Thor buried his face in his hands and outright wept, giving up completely.<p>

Maybe he shouldn't be allowed either one of them. If he got what he wanted, he'd lose what he had. But what did he have? What did he want? Nothing made sense anymore. It was all a paradox.

Clearly, he didn't deserve either one of them.

* * *

><p>Jane hadn't spoken or uttered any other sound for the past hour. She had stayed close, silent, tracing the bridge of his nose, until Loki fell asleep, and then discreetly crawled away to perch on her own once she had dressed. Silas padded up and curled around her ankles, batting at the drooping crown of a flower growing at the base of the rock Jane occupied. Jane reached for the feline and petted him, scratching his ears. He purred, stretching leisurely.<p>

"You're the only one things are simple with," Jane murmured, staring out at the countryside. She plucked the flower beside the one he kept playing with, hoping it wasn't poisonous, and put it in her hair. Tired of being alone, she picked her way back to Loki.

When she returned to his side, he still slept. She crouched, studying him. She bit her bottom lip, nails digging into her palms. Sometimes, looking at him, she got angry all over again, and she wanted him to hurt, too. Sometimes she felt guilty, and some other times she felt sorry for him even knowing he would hate it. Sometimes they got along amiably, and she even liked him. Sometimes she could feel genuine affection. She knew he could and had been terrible, and awful, destructive, and she didn't love him. But staring at such a naked, vulnerable, heap of self-loathing, something he'd said Jane had to ignore his own, Jane felt something very deep in her, something that twisted her in knots. He had her relearning emotions. Her human heart ached because of this man. It could love him, as twisted as it would be at the moment, though it didn't. It fluttered erratically, Jane once more struggling between instincts to protect the innocence in him and the old dilemma of how they'd "started off on the wrong foot". Thor hadn't always been perfect, hell, she'd almost killed him twice, literally. Not that it was the same(or on purpose). She was pretty sure either one of them could hit her with a car and she would have recovered quicker than she had been over the days that had passed since everything had went into motion.

She had the small comfort that the berries hadn't compelled her completely—or perhaps that would've been the mercy? Why had she done it? Yes, he invoked something inside of her, lit some spark that would have been a healthy flame if they'd met under different circumstances, other ones than his war crimes against her people and her slapping him while she was dying and then his...his...she pulled on her hair a bit. She wanted to hate him outright, knew she should have, but she couldn't. She wouldn't make excuses for him, she wouldn't plead with herself that he was misunderstood. So what if he was, so was Hitler! But then again, Hitler did everything out of hatred instead of heart, and later coercion. Hadn't she heard of someone from some weird television program or something via Bonnie, some angel named Castiel that had done similar things, in a way, without being the root of all evil? Not to delude herself into thinking Loki was some sacrificial lamb at the alter. No—he was anything but. Jane tried to shake her ponderings away for the moment.

Jane picked through her books for something, and choosing one, sat back, delving into the book to pass the time away. Theoretically, she could run then and there, break away and leave him. But why didn't she? She laid the book over her legs and placed her fist under her chin in contemplation. Perhaps she knew he'd just find her sooner rather than later, or perhaps some voice in her kept reasoning with her to try and salvage whatever was left of him as opposed to throwing it all away. After all, Thor hadn't come as Prince Charming, though he had far less of a rap-sheet-if just as many mistakes. Her nose wrinkled. Straight back to Thor. Her brain would not let her off as easily as she had hoped, it seemed. She loved Thor. She still did and probably always would. It was a love that had to happen, though. It hadn't swept her off of her feet or swamped her, hadn't been overwhelming. He'd been so very good to her, so kind and loving. They'd grown into each other, like planting the seed of a plant you knew nothing about, and waiting until it grew up to know what you had. But what if that tree wasn't the tree you were expecting? What if that tree was a Beech and not a Cherry, though? It didn't mean you couldn't love it. But which man was which?

Wait, what? Since when had these men become goddamned trees? Jane buried her face in her hands. Not only did nothing else make sense, stretch into any rhyme or reason, but she didn't. She didn't make sense to herself, and had a certainty that no one else would understand. What Jane knew, however, was that she didn't lay down and take things or give up without a fight. But she kept her calm. She was slow to anger unless injustice was involved, and usually slow to forgive true injustice, unlike other things. But something in her had forgiven him, forgiven, but not forgotten, what happened. She sighed. Hearts and heads and souls were all such funny things. Who would opt for a heart, if given the choice, if everyone knew how easily hearts could be broken, how fickle they could be; how screwed up brains could get; how wounded and tarnished souls could become? Jane smacked her forehead. What was she, a philosophy major instead of a scientist now? What would Bonnie say?

Jane nearly leapt out of her skin when Loki rolled over and curled into her, laying his head in her lap. The man was clearly still knocked out, but he'd found her anyway. Jane exhaled wearily, running a hand through his hair. He purred as Silas had at her gentle attention, Silas who sat nearby grooming himself. What had her mother said? Ah..._'I know it is a bad thing to break a promise, dearest, but I think now that it is a worse thing to let a promise break you. Never let someone use your promises to undo you. Never let your word be your downfall. Instead of being true to what may no longer be true, be true to yourself.' _

Oh how right she had been, had she not?

She felt a tremendous tremor go through the ground beneath her feet at that moment, one that knocked her over, and still the ground shook for a few seconds while she stared at everything from her side. She sat up gingerly because she had fallen on her arm, and gazed about warily. She heard a roar, and without consciously deciding to, shrank toward the man that had caused so much discord since when it came down to it, if anyone were to protect her, he would. Strange comforts and strange occurrences.

Silas caterwauled and leapt into her arms, cowered against Jane's chest with whiskers twitching. She tried to shush the cat as Loki scrambled into a sitting position. Jane, prying one arm free of Silas, reached for his shirt and tossed it to him while he tried gathering everything else. Strangely enough, it had gotten eerily quiet. The birds had stopped singing. The world had hushed itself, and breathing seemed too loud. Then a terrible roar came from some distance off, that distance doing nothing to soften it. Silas' claws were digging into Jane's skin by then, and she dropped him. He meowed pitifully, quickly finding purchase again by climbing onto her shoulders.

The three of them waited for a very long time before any of them made a sound.

"Mew?" Silas poked his head up and swiveled his ears inquisitively. Jane unfurled from how she'd folded herself up to seem smaller and less noticeable, uncurled hands that had turned into claws as they gripped her close to Loki, barely allowing him any movement. For one long second, he seemed more surprised at her confidence in his willingness to prevent harm from befalling her than at the actual disturbance, and seemed to quite enjoy it, too, but then a sharpness overtook him, and he cradled her against his chest as if she were the most precious treasure in the world, one he had to make sure nothing happened to. Jane, still startled and heart frantic, allowed it, and Silas pressed against both of his people, trembling.

"What was that?" Jane whispered. She leaned away and shaded her eyes to better see Loki's face. He sighed, shredding the thawing grass by his bare foot. He took her smarting arm, rubbing a hand over it that instantly made it feel better. He'd taken the pain out of it. His fingers lingered unconsciously. "I think," he said slowly, "that that was my sister coming after us."

"Your sister!" Jane exclaimed, bemused. She tilted her head, and he apparently noticed the flower in her hair. He caught her cheek gently, staring, then lightly touched the spot she'd tucked it into.

"Bitterblue," he murmured, "one of my mother's favorites...and one of mine. It looks lovely with your skin, Jane." Jane squirmed uncomfortably under the observation, not able to get away from his intent gaze, and unable to ignore how he saw her as beautiful, looked like he wanted to melt into her because she'd worn his mother's flower, his flower, in her hair as an adornment. Jane swallowed, suddenly wishing very much that Loki would get angry with her again. Her heart hurt too much when he stopped being quite so insufferable. The distance made things easier. It made lines clearer. It said things so they didn't have to.

He leaned closer and lightly touched his lips to her forehead. "I wish you knew how sorry I was," he whispered against her skin. "Sorrier than I have ever been. Contrite and sincere."

He nuzzled her cheek, drew her into a pleading hug. He rocked her slightly, like a baby frightened by the dark. Jane then wished, fleetingly, that he would hold on just another moment longer, because despite everything, it was comforting when someone held you like you were worth more than anything else that ever existed-that not only did you matter, but you mattered the most; that they desired your existence, not because it made theirs better, but because it felt, to them, that the universe would lose its pearl. That you were an integral part of all that was.

Jane hated it, but Jane also loved it. Jane felt bitterness because of it, for when he held on too tightly, so tightly that his grip bruised; but also mercy, and even happiness, sometimes, because there were times when things weren't so bad and she could pretend that nothing had gone wrong at all. Which had Jane wondering how much of a curse it might be to love him after all. She still didn't. But what of it if she ever did? It might just break her, smash her to bits and shred what was left. Or it just might set her free.

* * *

><p>"Calm yourself, Naryu!" Mordred thundered. As he watched, Naryu lashed her tail in consternation and snorted. Mordred ruffled his wings and folded them over his back tiredly. He sat on his haunches while Naryu paced, her wings flapping every so often. She bared her teeth. "Why is it that if <em>something<em> can go wrong with them, it _will,_ and I'm left to clean up after them every single time?"

Mordred sighed, blowing out a billow of smoke and ash. "Because you're so blessed," he replied darkly, scowling. "Or they're both idiots. Either way."

Naryu laughed bitterly. "How true." Her neck arched as she peered at the ground beneath their feet. She could just see faint glimmers of residual magic left over from whatever had happened at that particular spot. It was the right color to be her brother's, but she sniffed at it anyway with her dragon's nose, serpentine tongue licking out at the air. Yes, Loki and Jane had been there recently. Triumphantly, Naryu started preening, shinning the scales on her chest and belly.

Mordred chuckled, rolled his eyes affectionately, and began the process of turning himself back into his original shape. He waited for Naryu to do the same. Without being the same species, she naturally towered high above his head and out of his line of sight. He cleared his throat once, twice. The third time, sounding a bit impatient, he got thumped hard on the back by her tail and nearly tumbled over. He sat up ruefully rubbing his head just in time to see her shrinking back, a throaty chuckle still in her throat.

She grew serious, though, and turned, frowning, in the direction the essence trail led. She shaded her eyes, then turned to regard Mordred solemnly.

"I did tell you about mother and how she used to bring us here, did I not?"

Mordred nodded. "She brought you and Loki here when you were younger."

Naryu bit her lip and again glanced at the sky and about them. "The Day of Colors," she muttered. "I wonder..."

Mordred tilted his head curiously as he watched her think. He hadn't felt particularly special until Naryu had stuck up for him, saving his life at the market. He had only been a simple Druid boy, after all. He remained just a Druid, and her constant companion and a champion for his people, putting a face to their persecution under The Reign of Terror—that of the Pendragons'. Naryu had helped make things better, had cared for him, saved Morgana, deposed Uther and his reign. Straightened out Merlin and Arthur both. She had loved him and befriended him in spite of the horrible prophecy surrounding him—one she made sure never came to pass. Almost as she had done for her adoptive brother. He remembered them all doing magic together once or twice, but he also recalled that they both had issues sharing her, and therefore getting along. Not that she didn't put her foot down. But as alike as they were, Mordred and Loki couldn't always be in the same room together. The fact remained that they almost had _too much_ in common.

Naryu nodded to herself, as if agreeing with another, and said, "I think that he's going to go to the celebrations."

"The celebrations," Mordred said confusedly, broken from his musings. "That would be foolish. Surely he's not that sentimental?"

"He surely is," Naryu remarked.

"But why risk it? He's got a hostage, he's on the run—"

"And this place is still..._sacred ground_, all right...from our childhood. Unsullied, and one of the last things of mother we have left."

"But how do you know he's acted on this impulse of sentiment?"

Naryu looked at him squarely. "Because I would, Mordred. Because I would. We three think in many of the same ways."

Mordred bit the inside of his cheek. He had forgotten how much she had in common with the both of them while also being something else entirely. And of course—how could he forget?—Frigga had mothered her, too, before Mordred had been a thought or a sidelong glance in the lane in front of a stall. If anyone could get inside of Loki's head, it would be Naryu. She knew both of her brothers so extremely well. Mordred became concerned when a shadow fell across her countenance.

"What troubles you?" he inquired gently. "Rethinking dragging him in by his ankles are you?"

Naryu closed her eyes slowly. Reopening them just as slowly, she said, "I didn't know things would be this messy or complicated when I set out to retrieve him. Oh, Mordred! I don't know that I can keep doing this!"

Mordred enveloped her in his arms, and she huffed dejectedly. She pressed her eyes into his neck over his pulse. "I don't know what the right thing to do is anymore. I'm supposed to find them and bring back Jane. But what if I get there and Jane no longer wishes to leave? What if I arrive and things have changed so profoundly that even if she did, she could never function as she used to with Thor? And Thor...I did not notice at first, as preoccupied and...and.."

"Furious?" Mordred supplied. Naryu nodded into his neck. "Yes, furious. As preoccupied and furious as I was, I did not see the changes in him. Now I can sense that all is not well. He is in turmoil, those Midgardians Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis are in turmoil, Loki is in turmoil, and you are in turmoil, and without involving politics or love or grief...Oh, Mordred! They are so different than when we were children, before...everything. What has changed since I first picked up an orphaned prince in a temple, prying him from his dead mother's arms to have us both to be taken in by her lover, the rival king? When did the world start rotating in the opposite direction?"

"I think," Mordred tried, after searching for what he wanted to say, "that it always went in that direction, but no one noticed it until they realized they had been standing backwards."

Naryu half-sobbed half-laughed, and Mordred tightened his hold. She didn't need the added stress, not when she had been dealing with his problems and those of others for years, and now could not even stop to grieve. So when she began to sob—she never cried, never sniffled or grew teary in the slightest—he said nothing, merely stroked her hair, hoping he would be enough, because with things how they were, she only had him, surrounded by and bombarded with reminders of how love had robbed her.

* * *

><p>Darcy did not expect to see Thor for the next few hours. She had run until she tripped, and then sat in the floor until she was tired of feeling worthless <em>and<em> being cold. She braced against the cool stone walls and maneuvered upward, leaning against it. Shivers wracked her body, but still she stayed, until a sluggish part of her mind suggested dully that she go apologize to Sigyn, at least, for being a blubbering drunken mess, stealing her liquor and losing it all in one go, and crashing on her couch. And for her acrobatics, if she'd broken anything. She thought she vaguely remembered her foot catching a vase, but couldn't be sure. So she made her way back, feet numb, meandering wildly until she had more than a little confidence in her sense of direction. She knocked on the door, fidgeting, and hoped she didn't look as horrible as she felt. She had a sinking feeling she did.

Sigyn answered after that first tap, as soft as it had been, and absolutely beamed upon seeing Darcy. She ushered her in immediately and sat her on the couch she'd slept on the night before. Grateful, Darcy avoided looking at where Thor had sat, instead focusing on the tired-looking Sigyn.

"You came to apologize." Darcy jumped. When had Sigyn appeared at her side, and offering a mug of something steamy? Darcy took it with shaking hands, trying to hide her jitters and failing. Sigyn mercifully either pretended not to notice or actually didn't. Darcy cleared her throat, nodding wordlessly. Sigyn shook her head and clapped her lightly on the shoulder. "There is no need. I would not hold your grief against you. I only wish I could have been more help."

Darcy squirmed uncomfortably. "I, uh...I kinda took one of your bottles of spirits, and maybe broke a vase." She ducked her head, shocked to hear a chuckle from the other woman. Her head shot up.

"Spirits are made to be ingested and enjoyed," she explained, gaze sparkling. "And I always hated that vase anyway. Odin gave it to me as a birthday boon." Darcy hung her head again. "Even if you hated the vase, the liquor….It got wasted. I accidentally dropped it." She flushed, more self-conscious about what had startled her so badly that she had dropped it than about the actual breaking of the bottle or the mess. "I, uh, sorta cut my hand, too. I'm sorry if I messed up your arrangement trying to get a bandage out of your supplies."

Sigyn picked up both of Darcy's hands, turning them over. She dropped the uninjured one and focused on the wrapped one. "I wish you had told me. I could have healed this easily. You only had to knock and I would answer your summoning." She grinned. "I needed somebody to thank for getting rid of that atrocious adornment you broke anyway."

Darcy blushed even deeper, horrified at the thought of Sigyn walking in and seeing what she herself had witnessed. Hurriedly she shook her head, emphatic. "No, no, no, I'm fine! I just wanted to apologize and all for being a pathetic nuisance last night."

Sigyn waved off her plea of forgiveness. "I do not begrudge you your period of mourning. It was completely understandable, Darcy. Do not apologize for that." She curled her fingers over her palm, cupping her hand between both of hers. Darcy felt it grow warm, then fade to normal. Sigyn stood, smiling encouragingly at her. "If at any time you are in need of assistance, do not hesitate to ask it of me. I will help you."

Darcy nodded, hesitated, and replied, "I don't think anyone could help my situation."

Sigyn sighed, pausing, pondering. "I don't believe there is any helping it now," she murmured. "Everything has shifted." Her stare met Darcy's. "Things are not as they seem. I can feel it in my bones." Her hand shot out and clasped Darcy by the wrist. "Do be careful, however you choose to act."

Darcy, baffled, agreed without another thought and excused herself. She slipped out into the corridor again and stared long and hard at her feet. Then, after a minute of filling with confusion, she padded back to her room.

Once inside, she stripped, took a quick bath, and then sat alone in the middle of her bed. Hair still wet, she got up and went to the library, staying there for most of the day. No one bothered her, and the quiet there soothed her agitated nerves somewhat. By the time dinner came around, she had been brought a snack courtesy of Sigyn's maiden, and had gorged herself on whichever literature came closest to hand that she could read. She went back to her room, changed her mind at the door, sidled in only to get a cloak, and exited again, heading toward one of the many palace gardens.

Wandering among the rows absentmindedly, she didn't realize there was someone crying until she nearly tripped upon them stumbling into a little clearing in the middle of what appeared to be a small maze network of rose bushes. She crouched, ready to console them, when she realized it was Thor, who'd quietly been in tears whilst swigging from a flask. She had been close to stepping on his crotch and falling on top of him. Thor sat up quickly, rearranging his limbs to make room for her. Darcy, after an awkward beat of hesitation, dropped to her knees beside of him, switching into a cross-legged position. They sat in companionable, if awkward, silence. Every once in a while, she heard the flask contents swish around as Thor tipped it back for another shot. She tried to speak, but found she had no idea what to say. She kept waiting for Thor to speak, or at least make a sound to indicate he hadn't died beside of her, but he remained as silent as she.

Darcy turned her head to say something, anything, maybe even to ask for a swallow of whatever he was having if it'd get her drunk, but Thor dove in at that breath, kissing her wildly, unapologetically. The raw emotion behind it stunned her so that she could barely react at all. Helpless, she felt like someone watching from afar as it all took place, as Thor cradled her head and brought it closer to continue kissing her. Then the part of Darcy that wanted to respond rose up and roared to life, kissed Thor frantically, because both of her selves understood that there would only and always be, could only and always be, snatched moments in between everything else. Or so it thought. Darcy didn't protest when Thor's left hand laid aside his drink and cupped her cheek, neither when his lips met her throat nor when his right hand fiddled underneath her dress onto her knee. It all ended there, however. Almost simultaneously the two broke apart.

The fire pounding in her blood fueled her acceptance of his hand to stand up, then promptly sit on the nearest bench. Thor cleared his throat, becoming apologetic.

"I had wanted to ask if you would go to a celebration with me in Vanaheim," he explained gruffly once prompted (and sure she wouldn't run away, Darcy guessed darkly). "I did not intend to..."

Darcy did not pursue the end of that sentence. Instead she merely nodded her consent. "Yes, I'll go with you."

Thor beamed. "I promise I shall do better next time, Darcy. I...lost control."

Darcy, instead of answering, looked at a statue of a Valkyrie bearing a box with a heart inside, the lid crafted to be eternally half-open and half-closed. The heart itself looked patched. Broken. The irony was not lost on Darcy, whose fists clenched in her lap. She didn't know that she'd care very much anymore if he lost control again. But she would not help him to it. She would not push him into the abyss to fall with her.

Too late, she realized Thor had already been in the darkness with her the entire time.

* * *

><p>Speak to me?<p> 


	9. Masquerade

**Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain**

Chapter 9: Masquerade

_So they dug your grave/And the masquerade  
>Will come calling out At the mess you made_

-Imagine Dragon, "Demons"

* * *

><p>As Jane's heartbeat calmed to a normal rhythm, Loki relaxed, though he continued to try soothing her. It felt like holding onto a distant star, feeling its warmth from afar while knowing you should never touch it. He tried kissing away her tremors by pressing his lips to her forehead and hair, but still he could feel a tremble of fear and uncertainty in her. It must be horrendously baffling to her how she could seek safety with him but possibly also never feel completely safe from him. She could both always rely on him and never trust him. After all, he couldn't exactly protect her from himself. Still, her smaller form pressing into his chest made him experience a surge of protectiveness and pride along with the swooping that occurred in his abdomen when she touched him without flinching.<p>

How he loved her touch—and in many more ways than sensual situations, which were few and far between. He loved her smile, wishing he had the ability to summon it. He admired her spark. She flooded an entire new horizon with her presence. She made him question himself. All of it made him more affectionate than he had deigned he be in a long while. There were very few people he loved, and when he loved, he loved deeply, thoroughly.

He stopped rocking her and waited to see what she would do. Jane sighed. She sounded like the most tired woman in the world, as if she shared the burden of Atlas. He knew he was a burden. He'd always been a burden, the extra, the last one picked. Second choice. He dropped his arms, smothering his disappointment when Jane scrabbled away like a startled rabbit. He saw the smallest flash of guilt and uncertainty, in the making of riddling her through until she resembled Swiss cheese. Her cheeks were still flushed, her forehead creased and her eyes squinting. She worried the inside of her cheek. A hand reached out for another flower, and she plucked it, staring at the dark petals as she twirled the stem between her long fingers. "So your sister," she rejoined awkwardly. "Tell me about her?"

"Ah-Naryu." He thought for a moment. "One of the few people that ever loved me I daresay. I could always depend on her. She stood up for me—even when I begged her not to." He cringed, tracing his lips with his tongue as he remembered their many spats over that particular issue. Not that he hadn't appreciated the sentiment, but he felt weaker and more helpless for it, and received more taunting when her back had turned for her troubles. Loki took a steadying breath, then grinned bitterly, lips stretching wide.

"Surely you know that she isn't my real sister no more than Thor is my real brother."

Jane's head jerked up, brown eyes enormous and darting about his face for an explanation. "She...found me, as an infant."

Loki watched Jane's reactions, head tilted and eyes narrowed, hoping he didn't find pity lurking in her of all people for him. He wouldn't be able to bear it. Instead of ridiculing him—the other reaction he feared—she stopped fiddling with the flower and took his hand in hers gently. "You may not want to hear this, but if she loves you the way Thor and your mother do and did, then I don't know of anyone who was ever loved or wanted quite so much, Loki. You might not have _always_ been wanted, or by everyone, but you were always loved. And probably needed. I know that's true."

His eyebrows drew together, and he saw her smile waver slightly. He shook his head. "Jane," he sighed.

"Loki," she returned. He swiped the flower from her grasp, eyeing it closely.

"Why would you tell me that?"

Jane blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you've no reason to."

Jane considered that and shrugged. "True. But I don't have it in me to be overly cruel, even to you. I'm just not a pain-dealer."

Loki smirked. "But you slapped me so willingly. Or have you forgotten?"

Jane couldn't help but snicker. "That you deserved. I just don't do overkill."

"Oh, is that all?" he teased. "I rather thought my appealing nature and dashing looks might have done it all." Jane rolled her eyes, unable to resist a smile. Loki felt a twinge of satisfaction. He'd done it again.

Jane huffed semi-affectionately and leveled herself off of the ground. She dusted herself off and looked about her warily. She turned and offered her hand to him. He glanced at it, regarded her expression and body language, and took it. Then, of course, true to his nature, and perhaps to pay her in kind for what she had done when she slipped earlier, he promptly yanked her back down, where she landed in a heap. She screeched furiously, but her outrage got cut short by tickling. Jane flailed to get away, but Loki held onto her tightly. "You fiend!" she choked, wiggling crazily to try to escape again. Finally, she gave up and instead went completely limp. He paused, and in doing so gave her the opportunity she needed. She twisted and broke free. She sat across from him, crab-walking an extra inch just in case.

"That—" pant—"was not—" pant –"fair."

She nudged his knee with her foot for emphasis, but couldn't contain the snicker that slipped out. At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated. "I was planning to let go and drop you when you pulled up, but you got me first."

He got very quiet, and then, echoing clearly between the little hills, his laughter rang.

After a minute or so, he grew quiet again. "I got you first," he echoed.

Jane couldn't quite manage to feel abashed. "Oh, get over yourself," she teased, "It's not like it's something you wouldn't have done."

"Exactly. It's exactly like something I would have done." He sounded pleased.

Jane rolled her eyes. "Stop preening, will you?"

"Why?" he inquired loftily. "I'm corrupting you."

"Hardly. Though what if you were?" Jane retorted, crossing her arms defensively.

"And you would be all right with that?" Loki could no longer contain the unholy glee the thought process apparently brought him.

"Well, it's sort of a case of learned helplessness. And apathy, oh yes, apathy," Jane reasoned. "Nothing to do." A glimmer of playfulness almost surfaced, but she buried it, actually hesitant to embrace it. The truth was, she'd been that way all along, but Thor wasn't someone you could yank into the mud with you when you "tripped", or vice versa. She bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood, salty and bitter and metallic, and hid the cringe that followed within a controlled cough.

"So the ah-Day of Colors, was it?" Jane quickly changed the subject. "I mean, short story short, obviously it's some sort of annual celebration—but what more?" To her relief, Loki perked up at the mention of it and began explaining animatedly. Jane absentmindedly started to make a flower crown with more bitterblue as he spoke.

He spoke of the music and crowds; the brightly colored magical paint thrown back and forth that only washed off at sunset, and that acted almost like a mood ring did; about the paper lanterns released at night, floating upwards like star boats; the barefoot people and the dancing; the colorful ribbons and the pranks exchanged; about actual acts of magic. He elaborated in such a way that Jane could tell he loved it, that he had good memories of it, and perhaps most of all, though he didn't make mention, that he missed his mother and sister and the times they'd had together. Jane's hands faltered on tying the last stems together when his explaining faltered. His brows drew together, and the smile left the creases of his eyes. Jane hesitated, but gently placed her hand over his. "Hey," she said gently, tilting her head and squeezing his fingers until he acknowledged her. "Why don't you let me show you a dance? I bet you'd enjoy it, and it would take your mind off of things." She didn't quite know what drove her to try and cheer him up at all.

He chuckled, "I know how to dance."

"You know how to dance by touch," Jane replied, rubbing her thumb over his wrist for emphasis. "You probably haven't been exposed to the near-touch." She pulled away her touch and stood, motioning for him to follow her. He did so, hands crossed behind his back. Jane reached around and unhooked them, bringing them in front of him. She dropped his left, gesturing to it and stating, "We'll start with the right, go to the left, and then do both. But first, you honor your partner." She backed up a foot or so, bowing at the waist toward him, arms straight at her sides, to demonstrate. "When we bow to each other, our heads should almost touch, and if we turn our faces up, it should be not quite close enough for a kiss."

Loki nodded, and they enacted her instruction. He remained silent as Jane went on with her display. His eyes and ears drank in every motion and word. "You come closer, move almost as if you are going to turn your shoulder, and hold up your right hand." She came up to him, shoulder turned, and held her right hand up to his. The dance started then, with their right hands a hair's-breadth away from contact. "Now, move with me," Jane whispered, walking in a spiral. "No matter how much you want to touch me, don't. There's no touching during this part. It's about the simple intimacy of the near-touch, the flirting with eyes alone." They spun slowly, twice. Jane lowered her right and stepped back. "Here we share a look, face to face, and switch."

She straightened her shoulders, both arms at her sides, and met his gaze. His interest had apparently been piqued. He lifted a brow as if telling her to continue as this time, he stepped up to Jane. They switched hands and spun the other way, two beats exactly. Jane withdrew for the second time. "And now?" Loki asked softly, nearly breathless.

"Now we will come in facing each other with both hands raised," Jane breathed, suddenly anxious to get through each part. She lifted both hands towards him, and he followed suit, coming so close that she truly felt how he towered over her. This swirl lasted a little longer, and then when Jane stopped, she whispered, "This is the part where you're allowed to touch me." Loki swallowed. She clasped the fingers of their right hands together, her hand slipping into his and fitting as if they were two interlocking pieces, then put her left on his shoulder. His descended on her back as he pulled her close, just a tiny bit more than the dance called for but not enough to be noticeable. She told him so and he smirked, and they twirled elegantly around their imaginary floor.

Her lips tugged upward, and his did as well. They slowed to a halt. "Again?" Jane prompted.

"It would be my pleasure," Loki responded silkily. The spark had returned to the glistening gaze she knew so well. They bowed to each other. _Flirt with your eyes._ He looked both as if he adored her and as if he could devour her. Their right hands came up together, skimming the inch of air between them. Their feet followed the circular pattern. They paused, switched, repeated. They held up both again, and when it came time to, they slid just as easily together. _It's about the simple intimacy of the near-touch._

By then, everything else, their problems, their circumstances, their surroundings, their guilt and uncertainties, faded into the background, a dull and distant hum they could ignore while it was just the two of them in the moment, so close but not close enough. Jane saw the slight quirk of Loki's lips that denoted he enjoyed that she was willingly in his arms and for a good reason, completely content and at ease for the moment. But more than that, she had seen how he had been ready to sink into her, gliding through each step with ease. He took to the motions almost lovingly, caressing her with his glances, and then handling her delicately when the distance closed and he could touch her.

At last, they quit, Jane disengaging and backing away, regarding Loki openly. He gazed intensely back, trapping her in pools of cool, true emerald green. "Thank you, Jane."

His Adam's-apple bobbed almost nervously. Jane curtsied, grinning faintly. "My pleasure," she mimicked from earlier. Loki reached for her and caught her up suddenly, tickling her sideways. Jane, gasping, escaped. She shot him an accusatory glance. Loki shrugged nonchalantly. "Do not mock me, Jane, and I will not be forced to...get even."

His playful smirk gave away the lack of actual support behind the threat. Silas, who had watched the entire ordeal, meowed loudly.

"He's right," Loki said, going to get their packs, "We should keep moving now that you are once more well."

Not questioning his cat-whispering skills, Jane agreed with an mm-hmm, picked up Silas, and followed him. Not much later, he inquired, voice suspiciously neutral, "How long after you knew Thor did you teach him of the near-touch?"

Jane bit her lip. "I didn't."

Loki halted, turning to her. He kept most emotions tucked away, but curiosity leaked out. "Why?"

Jane crossed her arms underneath her breasts, shrugging. "It just wasn't his style. And it never seemed to fit."

She could tell her response took Loki off-guard. "Why share with me what you could not share with him?"

Jane shook her head. "I don't know. It's just...different, and complicated. And you needed it." She thought she saw something flicker in those unusually non-flirtatious eyes, but it vanished before she could really examine it in the light. She gestured at the general direction they'd been heading.

"Shall we?"

"We shall," Loki replied, carrying on as if nothing had happened. With less reluctance than she had imagined, Jane once more set off after Loki, unaware of how his insides had lit up from such a simple conversation.

* * *

><p>Naryu sniffed, gaze darting. "They've been here."<p>

Mordred nodded in agreement, eyes narrowed as they stood in the shadows observing the hurried comings and goings of those nearby. Naryu could make out the essence trail leading directly into a little inn across the way. "There," she said, pointing, and Mordred honed in on the place that her finger indicated. Frowning, he squinted at the sign and read, _'Same As It Never Was'_?"

"Yep," Naryu replied determinedly, striding towards the establishment. Mordred kept pace with her, ducking inside after her when she pushed open the door.

She made a beeline for the service counter. She slammed both hands down palm first, leaning forward with elbows bent. The man, who had been scribbling something into his payment ledger, hastily put it away when he saw the look in Naryu's eyes, and the appearance of the eyes themselves.

"Yes?" he squeaked, paling. Between them, on the counter, images began forming that quickly resembled Jane and Loki.

"Have you seen either of these individuals?"

"I promise _complete_ confidentiality," he spluttered, quivering. He crossed his arms.

"For a price, I'm sure," Naryu added pointedly. "Of which I will pay if I must, but I know I don't have to, do I? Not if you know who we are. Especially if you do."

He opened his mouth to speak, but Naryu laid a hand over his. He cringed.

"I will not hurt you. You know that," she cooed, stroking the side of his face. He shivered in fear, flinching. "All I want to know is if you've seen this man or that woman."

"Please, Lady Naryu! This business is all I have, and its reputation is all _it_ has. Please: if word gets out that I have a loose tongue...business is good now. It would not stay so."

"Business is very good," Naryu agreed, nodding and raising her lip. "So good, in fact, that one or two people missing your doorstep when they skip by shouldn't hurt."

"This is all because of the celebrations! You don't understand-"

She flipped his hand over and held it in hers. She bent forward to whisper in his ear. "What I understand, is that you have no right to question me, Ezmil. Now tell me."

She threw his hand away, straightening up to her full height and tossing her hair.

"Mordred," she said softly, just so the three of them could hear her while turning to look at him, "bring me his wife. Perhaps she would like to know he's been having an affair and double dipping into the profits to lavish his mistress."

"My lady, please!" He lowered his voice, eyes darting around fearfully. "Please don't do that to me. I'll do anything. I'll-I'll tell you the truth."

Naryu's lips curled up knowingly. She bent over the counter, the images flickering out of sight. "All right, then, Ezmil, I'm listening."

Almost tearfully, he relayed all he knew. When he finished, Naryu pulled away, mulling the information over. Mordred stood quietly.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Ezmil," Naryu sighed, patting his hand, which he had clenched so tightly into a fist on the counter that his knuckles had turned white. He withdrew it, pushing his glasses further up his nose. Naryu flicked her wrist in a signal, and Mordred produced a small pouch of gold coins that he tossed to Ezmil, nodding curtly.

"Good day, sir," Mordred said politely. He and Naryu turned together, arms looping, and began walking toward the exit. Just as they reached the door, Naryu turned back to him, locking gazes, and said, "Oh, and Ezmil? Don't tell anyone else what we talked about, or I will come for you, and I will spell you out and shatter your perfect little fantasy world."

And then, they had gone. Ezmil pocketed the money and excused himself for the day.

* * *

><p>"You didn't have to frighten him to death, you know," Mordred chided. Naryu met his gaze as they reached the outskirts.<p>

"I didn't hurt him...much. Mostly his feelings. Ezmil will get over it. Besides, I paid him for his troubles and kept his secret even though he doesn't deserve it."

"And now he's in your debt and you have leverage in case there are any other...incidences."

"It is not my fault if he has a list of indiscretions a mile long that his wife is completely blind to."

Mordred sighed. "All three of you always were so unrepentant when it came to your dealings."

"Were we?" Naryu paused, pulling him to a halt with her, and gripped his chin lightly, just enough to make sure she could stare directly up at him. "I was only hard so you wouldn't have to be. That's just how it's always been, and old habits die hard, I suppose." She embraced him. "I love you, Mordred. I love all three of you so much it hurts."

"I know you do," he nodded. She smiled and gestured out toward the path ahead.

"We should keep going. We're close, Mordred. He has to know I'm onto him by now. He knows how I work, and I know how he works. It's going to be a tough finals game of hide and seek."

She wrapped her arms around Mordred's neck playfully. "You know how hide and seek has always been my favorite game."

"Yes," he replied, swallowing thickly for having her so close, pressed to him.

"Do you know why," Naryu whispered. Mordred couldn't pry his eyes away from her earnest face. "No," he whispered truthfully.

"Because even before I learned how to get what I wanted or needed at the drop of a hat, it was the one place I could always win."

Chuckling, she spun away from him, running suddenly. "I'll race you," she called out almost childishly. "It's a straight way there!"

Mordred rubbed the heels of his hands into his face, exhaling and sprinting after her.

She paused again a little further on and rummaged around in her bag. After a moment, she pulled out a book, ripping out a blank page, and a pen, hastily scribbling a message. As Mordred watched, she stowed her pen and crumpled up the parchment. The next second, it had caught on fire with her chanting until it vanished. She lowered her hand. Her head rose. She smiled at Mordred, shrugging. "Just a little note passing."

Mordred tilted his head. "To whom?"

Her smile widened. "You'll see."

* * *

><p>Darcy fidgeted, glancing around almost nervously at their surroundings. She and Thor sat in a dining hall of Vanaheim, sharing a meal. Chatter permeated the air, with people dancing on the open floor to the music of a band and a sole singer. It was perhaps the most awkward dinner Darcy had ever attended. They had barely spoken until she'd opened her mouth a minute ago. They were to spend the next two days in the city, doing as they wished until the festivities began. Darcy blushed every time she thought about the dress she wore, a beautiful, rich red dress that looked like leaping flames against her skin. Thor kept twiddling with a strand of his hair.<p>

"Why did you bring me here?" Darcy blurted. Thor's utensils clattered onto his plate. He'd dropped them in surprise. He stared at them in further surprise as if unsure how they'd gotten there. It took a long minute before he could look at her, and when he did, he looked absolutely, perfectly _tormented_.

"Because I wanted to," he whispered.

"And why is that?" Darcy pressed. "Why do you want me here? Why take me to these celebrations here when we could have just stayed where we were?"

"Was it not you who insisted I needed to get out more, Darcy?" Thor replied. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him. Psychology was a real bitch sometimes. She sighed and took another sip from her glass.

"I suppose I did say that," she murmured, tracing the rim with a pinky, "but I didn't exactly envision this." She waved a hand at all around them. "I mean, I took you to a carnival. That hardly compares."

"The festivities are—"

"Don't lie—you're terrible at it. You can't even say it's a big-ass one on steroids."

Thor opened and closed his lips, clamping his mouth shut. Darcy nodded her head in short-lived triumph, not happy at all about being right. She huffed and took a much larger sip of wine.

The door to the street opened and a group of men entered, speaking so loudly that the singer on the dais could no longer be heard. They sat across the room, though a few made interested eyes at Darcy, tracing her figure in ways that made her want to tase each and every one of them repeatedly.

"Thor," she whispered, a warning in her voice. She darted her eyes toward them without turning her head. Thor gave her the smallest of nods in acknowledgement.

"I saw, Darcy." A frown had appeared on his countenance that deepened by the minute.

"Assholes," Darcy muttered. Thor seemed inclined to agree with her. They continued their meal rather peacefully until the same group continued to increase in volume, so much so that Thor eventually stood up abruptly, marching over toward them. Darcy sprang up, unsure of what to do with herself. Then she decided Thor might need someone to watch his back in case the bastards tried to pull something. She still had her taser and that ring that Sigyn had given her before they left, after all. Which was supposed to allow her to use magic—not that she knew how—and heal her from any wound inflicted by another to her, no matter what or how. She hoped she wouldn't accidentally burn down the place trying to teach some fuckwit a few manners. Aza continued singing through it all.

"Excuse me," Thor called out to them. He held his hands out and open. "Pardon my intrusion, but you are being incredibly disruptive." Darcy sidled up beside of him. "Yeah, give poor Aza a chance to do her job instead of acting like a gaggle of un-raised asshats."

Thor chuckled and snorted, an upturn of his mouth flashing briefly. One man who seemed to be the leader stood up, facing him.

"Is that so? You find us distasteful?"

"No, you're absolutely charming," Darcy retorted, dripping sarcasm. Her arms were akimbo, palms flat on her hips. The man switched his focus to her, taking her in from head to toe. "As charming as a hole in someone's skull. You have the manners of an ass"— here she tossed her head—"In other words, you're a great big bag of dicks, and you need to use your inside voices so people can actually hear who they came to hear and not your cacophonous blather."

Darcy felt proud of herself for being able to swear at them and still sound like a college professor. She and Thor watched as the man glanced back at his pack and refocused on them, clasping his hands together in mock beseechment. "Oh, I'm sorry, princess, but are we bothering you? My most humble apologies."

Darcy shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not either of our faults you're a feeble-minded fuckass blatherskite."

She could tell by the set of Thor's shoulders that he hadn't meant to be that blunt outright, and by the expressions of the other men that they were getting angry.

"My companion does not soften her blows," Thor began, "but what she says is true. I advise you leave if you wish to continue your merriment so zealously."

"Oh really?" the first man challenged, and his entire posse stood in unison. "And what might...persuade us?" Darcy didn't know what made her do it, why she was courting danger, but she snipped, "You leaving with some shred of your dignity intact rather than with your tails between your legs, heads bowed in shame and dishonor on you, and your families, and your cows, or whatever other shit you could tag on to the dis list."

Thor might not have reacted so violently if the man had not struck Darcy. As it was, before her ass had even hit the floor, Mjölnir had reunited with Thor's hand and been used to mow down at least half of the men, her assailant one of the first to receive a blow. Darcy scrambled to her feet nursing her arm, newly broken, which had already begun knitting itself back up due to the ring she wore. She flung out her hand wildly, frantic to help in some way, and suddenly a platter flew from across the room and nailed one of the remaining men right between the eyes. She reached for her taser just as her bone finished mending, and stuck it to the one that had assaulted her despite his already being down. One could never be too careful, after all. She gave him a sound kick for good measure, and then turned just in time to trip and tase a man sneaking up behind them.

Blinking, chest heaving, and pumping adrenaline leaving an odd taste in her mouth, she noticed that the entire room had started watching the fight, had become silent while doing so, and now looked on somewhat blankly at Darcy and Thor standing in the middle of about a score and a half unconscious men.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Darcy observed without thinking. Still not a sound from any of the spectators. Then Aza stepped forward haltingly. Her hands raised. Stunned, Darcy saw her begin to clap, not realizing until the others joined in that she and Thor were being applauded. The room erupted into noise of hands meeting, cheers, whistles, and messages of encouragement, thanks, and approval.

"Drinks on the house!" The owner yelled from somewhere, "For everyone!" Another cheer rose. Most of them went back as they were. Aza approached the two of them, who happened to still be stunned at the moment.

"You have my immense gratitude," she gushed warmly, hugging Darcy and curtsying to Thor. "They come in every day and night like that, being incredibly obnoxious, and no one's been able to do anything about it."

"So we basically just whooped a bunch of bullies' sorry asses and got the Nobel Peace Prize to boot," Darcy mused, summing it up in her usual manner.

"Peace?" Thor inquired bemusedly. Darcy threw up her hands defensively, protesting, "What? I believe in a non-violent fist."

Aza threw back her head in a hearty show of amusement. "I like this one. Keep her, will you? She's amusing and fierce."

Thor opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to respond. Darcy jumped in to save him a bit of face. "We'd do it again," she replied, referring to the earlier part of the discussion. "And your singing voice is beautiful."

She embraced Aza again, who left them to themselves after that. They returned to their table and ate the rest of their meal in a much more at ease manner, though they both were ready to leave and return to their inn. They took a couple refills of wine and shots of other alcoholic beverages. Darcy finished first, waiting patiently for Thor to eat his last bite. As soon as he had, they both took another sip of wine (it was free and limitless, after all) and stood. Darcy's hand slid into Thor's without a second thought. "Let's go," she murmured. Thor obligingly went with her, wanting to get as far away as possible from the scene.

They stumbled into the street, glowing blissfully. Thor slung his arm around her, the spirits helping his mood lift mightily.

"Oh, Darcy Lewis!" Thor boomed, "We drank, we fought - we made our ancestors proud!"

"And we roughed up the rabble~ How does that make you feel, huh?"

"For the one hundredth time in my life, I have no idea what I'm supposed to do," Thor admitted glibly, "but I am improvising as I go along." Darcy snickered. She had to be knockered, what with everything being hilarious at the moment and their unexpected extension of Happy Hour for doing the public service of kicking ass and taking names.

"Same, but at least we look badass doing it. Bad-aaaasssss..."

She stumbled and Thor caught her. "Shit, we're drunk, aren't we?"

She raised her line of sight when Thor did not respond. He was staring at her deeply, almost soulfully, silently demanding she meet his gaze. Darcy felt a sudden lump in her throat. Thor pushed hair out of her face and behind her ear. "We are not so drunk that we are senseless...or thoughtless."

Darcy couldn't suppress a small shiver.

"What do you—?"

"Darcy Lewis, I very much want to kiss you right now. Would you stop me?"

Darcy swallowed, licking her lips. She noticed his eyes flickering between hers and her mouth. "Well," she breathed shakily, "there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Suddenly she found herself held against the wall with Thor's hot, moving mouth on hers, not realizing until then that they'd made it into a dark alleyway. How could touching someone you weren't supposed to send little pings of electricity darting just beneath the surface of her skin? How could it ignite an inferno in her depths, depths she could not fathom? How could being so close, but not close enough, make the realms, fuck, the _universe_, feel like the entire oxygen supply had been suctioned out and the only way to exist, _to breathe, goddammit,_ was to touch him? Her hips swayed and she wound her arms around Thor's neck. He kissed along hers and she gasped. His hands glided over her body on top of her dress, pushing at her clothes. The spirits made the guilt surge away and his fingers danced higher up her side. Any doubt or uncertainty seemed ludicrous, insignificant, as he touched her, and a few faint strains of song came to mind.

_...Like the empires of the world unite  
>We are alive<em>

_And the stars make love to the universe  
>You're my wildfire every single night<br>We are alive  
>And the stars make love to the universe<br>And you touch me..._

She could just hear the beat, feel the music throbbing in her veins, a pulse overlapping her own, and suddenly she couldn't care anymore. She felt like she might explode. Her eyes fluttered in the sheer agony of want, of desire, of _need_. A passage from something she'd read came to mind next as they continued kissing, passion welling up and overflowing._ "Almost touching him was like almost breathing. It was like almost living. It was like being cold and almost feeling the heat of a fire."_ She didn't know for sure where she'd seen it, but oh gods was it ever true in that moment. Thor felt like a live-wire against her, electrocuting her with his presence alone despite the fact that they were only kissing. She hadn't realized how smothered she'd been, how she'd felt bound until then. She nearly wept.

Finally, Thor broke off from his mad dash and simply held her, foreheads touching, both breathing heavily. At first she didn't know he'd been repeating her name, trying to get her attention. And when she became aware of that, everything crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. "Bloody fucking hell," Darcy swore. "What were we thinking?"

She winced at the hurt in Thor's eyes.

"I just meant..." She cupped his face gently, biting her lip. "I don't know anymore."

"Neither do I, Darcy." He continued to scrutinize her smolderingly, waiting to see what she'd decide. Tears came that nearly choked her. "Just take me back to our rooms," she whispered, panting through her mouth to calm herself and brace against the ocean of emotion threatening to drown her. Thor immediately put some distance between them. "Whatever you ask," Thor conceded.

Nodding jerkily, Darcy ascended the stairs with Thor following. Neither of them uttered a sound on the way up. When they got to the wing where their rooms were, Darcy placed a hand on his arm. "Thor, I'm sorry. But you know that was a mistake, don't you? It has to be a mistake."

"A good mistake, Darcy," Thor acknowledged sadly, barely above a hushed whisper. She slipped past him and opened her door an inch, closing it tightly behind her before she could change her mind.

She waited until she heard him go into his own room before she let the tears truly fall, rolling over the planes of her cheeks as Darcy Lewis sobbed into her hand. She slid down her door to the floor, arms pulling her knees to her chest. Every tear she shed that dripped over her lips tasted like bitter poison.

* * *

><p>Jane, still amused, threw a bar of soap at Loki as she closed the bathroom door.<p>

"Out! I want a shower, you."

"I do as well," he called through the wooden panels. Jane shook her head exasperatedly. She began readying her things, lining them all up in order, running the water and tipping something sweet-smelling she thought to be bubble-bath into the water. A moment later, the frothy bubbles began populating the surface of the bathwater. Jane dipped a toe in to test the temperature, then clambered into the warm pool, steam rising. Sighing, she scrubbed herself clean top to bottom, all manner of things coming off of her from her most recent travels. She watched the stuff swirling contemplatively as she rinsed, rivulets of water meandering downward.

When she heard an exclamation from the other room, she bolted to her feet, scrambling out onto the cold floor and grabbing a towel. She flung the door open and rushed out, still dripping water and breathing heavily, heart fluttering with fear. "What's wrong? What happened? Loki, are you all—"

She saw him sitting on the bed holding a piece of parchment, scanning it over and over. She could tell it had been crumpled up as if it were being thrown away in the trash. Jane pulled the towel more securely about her.

"What-what is that?" Jane breathed. He barely seemed to hear her. She went forward until she could sit beside of him, gently easing it out of his hands. She laid it over his lap and smoothed it out to try and read what was written—she could just make out sharp, slanting letters on the page. It had been an extra page of a book. It read:

_'If you think I won't find you, you are wrong, brother. N is for Naryu, not Neophyte. _

_Coming for you.'_

By the look on his face, she knew that despite it not being signed, it had to have come from Naryu herself. Jane felt her mouth go dry. _Coming for you _echoed dully in her mind. She shivered. Looking back up, she found Loki almost glowering into the distance.

"So she believes," he said aloud. He latched his sights onto Jane. "Looks as if we shall have to leave before morning and make a midnight getaway."

"And the festival?" Jane asked, not sure why she actually felt disappointed.

"Out of the question to stay for its entirety," Loki sighed, cradling his head between his hands, bent over, elbows digging into his knees.

"Why?" Jane found herself asking. He turned his head to regard her from underneath his arm. It cast a shadow across his features.

"Because she knows me too well. She knows it is a weakness for me. The sentiment is too great..."

"Then why go at all?" Jane whispered. He dropped his arms away and straightened.

"Because I have to, Jane. It's the one pure thing I have left. I can't taint it, and neither can anyone else. She knows that and she'll try to use it against me."

Jane shifted uncomfortably. She could use the festival to get away from him for good. But would she? After all, if she were honest with herself, she'd committed crimes of her own, and might not be accepted back into the fold as easily as when her hands were clean and not drenched in blood. Broodingly, she reached over to the nightstand to pick up one of her books to lay it on the bed. Just then Silas darted out and knocked it out of her hand. It hit the floor spine-first and fell open to where she had left the marker. What looked like a photo fluttered out. Surprised, Jane bent to pick it up, gasping when she saw what it was that had been captured on film. Waveringly, she called Loki. He still held the note from Naryu between trembling fingers, but quickly gave her his full attention. Jane had started shaking so hard that she couldn't open her fingers to give it to him. He eased it from her hand, paling when he saw what she had seen: a shot of them from earlier that day, just after he finished feeding her the berries whole; a shot of them making out. He turned it over. On the back, it said:

_I know what you did, and I know you don't kiss and tell. If only Thor could see how guilty you two look now._

_-A_

_P.s: Check the bed sheets. _

"Check the bed sheets?" Jane said aloud, having read it over his shoulder. "What—?"

She yanked Loki to his feet, ripping back the sheets. Splayed all over the bed were pictures of their tryst. A sound came out of Jane like that of a wounded animal. She fell to her knees. "What are we going to do?"

She looked up at Loki pleadingly, hoping he had the answer.

He didn't.

* * *

><p>Utterly dejected and spent from crying her eyes out, Darcy laid on her side in the floor, desperately trying to make the pain stop, to make it go away for just a second. Never in her entire life had she felt quite so miserable and horrible. It hurt to think about it, it hurt to act, and it hurt to refrain from acting. Everything hurt, essentially. Darcy zoned out, completely taken aback to find Thor had been knocking, and apparently for several minutes. Vacantly, she got to her feet and opened the door for him. "What do you want?" Darcy snapped hollowly. Thor, startled, said nothing, although he handed her a large brown envelope with his name on it. Darcy stared at it a moment.<p>

Coming back to herself, Darcy waved him into the room. "Come on and get inside. No use standing in the hallway taking up space like a knot on a log."

Thor came in guiltily. He kept his back to her even after she had bolted the door shut. "Look inside of it," he said quietly. He sounded broken, like a windup toy that had been dropped off of a balcony. Darcy walked over to the desk in the room and shook out the contents. Another envelope and a note fell out. Darcy picked up the note.

_Know what your fiancée has been up to? I do. Thought you should too. _

_-A_

"What the hell?" Darcy muttered confusedly.

"It worsens," Thor told her, massaging his temples. "Open the other envelope, Darcy."

Darcy picked it up, turning it over and over, and, finding no other information on the outside, upended the smaller envelope. Pictures spilled out onto the dark wood. Darcy's eyes widened. "Oh n-to-the-damn-o."

She grabbed a few, walking up to Thor. She held them up clutched tight. "Is this who I think it is? Tell me these aren't pictures of Jane and Loki making out and knocking boots and fucking _dancing_." She threw the evidence of just that to the floor angrily.

"I have felt like a light switch," Darcy said at last, livid, trembling. "Switching on and off, back and forth. And for what? I don't like that feeling, Thor. Especially when I don't have to stretch myself thin for someone who clearly couldn't care less." Thor messed with his hair.

"I do not much enjoy this predicament, either."

"So what do we do? It's all or nothing, Thor."

She crossed her arms defensively, walking over to the window and staring out at the street below. Thor hesitated before walking to her side. Another gasping sob rose in her throat before she got a chance to smother it, and Darcy, shuddering and despairing, whirled to face him, hitting him with her fists. She wailed her frustration, tears blurring her vision. "I give up trying!" she screeched, "I give it all up right here, today! I'm finished. Fuck it all, just...I'm done fighting." The vase on the mantle of the fireplace exploded, and they both flinched. She gave up ranting and flung her arms around him, still crying. Thor, speechless and at a total loss, at first couldn't even make his arms rise to hold her up. Eventually, he came to his senses and helped her sit on the edge of the bed. Darcy crawled away and curled up on her side facing away from him. "Go away," she sniffed. "I can't look at you right now." The flowers scattered throughout the broken glass wilted.

Thor tried extending his hand to her, but she twitched away. "Darcy—"

"Just go!" Darcy screamed at him. Thor sighed, defeated, but decided to stay put.

"No."

Darcy sat up and made a face. "Why not?"

"Because you need me."

Darcy laughed bitterly. "Do I?"

Thor held her cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing away some of the damp splotches.

"Yes, Darcy, you do, as I need you. We make an excellent combination."

"I suppose we do work well together," she smirked. Suddenly she outright cackled. "Remember the looks on their faces?"

Thor nodded cautiously. Darcy came back from the moment of hysteria and eyed him soberly. "Stay? I don't wanna be alone."

Thor situated himself on the bed and Darcy snuggled up to him, laying her head on his chest. Thor stroked her hair out of the way. It was nearly unbearable to Darcy then. All their pain and trying to be noble had been for Jane, and it had amounted to nothing. There would be no getting back for Jane. They could stop pretending. No more ignoring their feelings, not if they didn't want to. She couldn't resist anymore: she wanted him to touch her like he had before, so very, very much, so very, very soon. Almost as if he could sense the transition, he did.

"Darcy," he whispered, tracing her jawline. His other hand trailed up her side, cupping her breast through her dress. Darcy tugged at his shirt until she finally got him free of it. She had barely blinked, but somehow as his lips danced with hers he had ended up undoing her dress and sliding it off of her. The war in her mind seemed a million miles away as he clawed his way out of the rest of his clothing. Darcy ran her hands over any part of Thor she could reach. Thor haltingly drew her body against his, tentatively caressing her the way someone turns fine china over in their hands. "Thor," Darcy breathed, "you're going to ruin me. You know that, don't you?"

"I know it, Darcy," Thor whispered, emotion strangling him. "And you me."

He kissed her again, strumming over her spine like guitar strings, a hand on her hip holding them together, steadying them enough for him to push inside of her. Darcy spasmed. The feelings from earlier when he'd kissed her outside the inn came rushing back, drowning her. She wouldn't be close enough to him if she crawled into him. It was too much and too little all at once. Her pulse thrummed erratically. His touch made her burn up as if with fever. She squeezed his hip. Their hands met, and, just like earlier, Darcy's hand slid into Thor's without a second thought.

Outside, the sky opened up and it began to rain.

* * *

><p>Muahahaha, to be continued, my pretties~ Not what you were expecting?<p>

Love,

L.

Write those lovely reviews! :D


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